


Subversion

by tristinai



Series: Relationship: Gavin Reed - [REDACTED] [4]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, Bottom!Nines, Fluff, Gavin/TRACI, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Misunderstandings, Post-breakup, Top!Gavin, assholes to lovers, dumbasses in love, lovemaking, reed900
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-01-29 02:46:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21402895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tristinai/pseuds/tristinai
Summary: Nines sorts through his conflicting feelings after ending his 'relationship' with Gavin and is convinced he's done the right thing. That is, until an unforeseen circumstance forces both Gavin and Nines to confront what they've been denying all along.
Relationships: Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed
Series: Relationship: Gavin Reed - [REDACTED] [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1201441
Comments: 55
Kudos: 229





	Subversion

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know if anyone follows this series anymore. I was supposed to finish this in the summer but I am the worst at managing my life. Better late than never, right? XD 
> 
> No particular warnings for this, besides a lack of editing (working 6 days a week until Christmas T.T). Any and all grammar and technical terminology errors are completely my own. If anyone follows my D:BH fanfiction and wants to volunteer to be my beta-reader, I would love you forever. 
> 
> For reference, the HR400 who appears in this fic is the gray-eyed one in this image: https://66.media.tumblr.com/382bb9b66797e886343925eaa3fd1c1d/tumblr_inline_pkke0oLhbK1s6qr99_1280.jpg 
> 
> Thank you to everyone for patiently waiting while I finish up this series ^^. If you have also read the Bad Decisions series, I'm in the process of writing another installment for it :).
> 
> Enjoy <3

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Nines is aware it’s intentional. So, he ignores it, continues to download the case files they have been assigned. He will not indulge Detective Reed, has learned firsthand the slippery slope to counter-productivity that any such acknowledgment would lead to. Gavin, however, dislikes being ignored as much as Nines hates being distracted and, predictably, persists.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Nines removes his hand from the computer screen. The layer of synthetic skin that had peeled away during the interface reappears, covering his fingertips. His audio components receive the general bustle and murmur all around them in the bullpen, processing and cataloging the sensory data. Yet, above it all, the insistent tapping of Gavin’s pen on his desk rings with the decibels of a foghorn and Nines experiences a sensation he has become far too familiar with.

Irritation.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

“Detective, have you read the case files forwarded by Lieutenant Anderson?”

Steely eyes flick towards Nines across their joined desks and it takes all of 0.023 seconds for the android to identify the pigments in Gavin’s eyes: in direct sunlight, he has previously noted the irises become greener. They appear grayer in artificial lighting. When they thin and the detective’s pupils expand with arousal, the pigmentation becomes significantly darker, almost blue.

Nines startles, though his rim rod posture and placid expression does not give away his surprise. In those 0.023 seconds, his focus was diverted by extraneous data irrelevant to this interaction. He doesn’t need his preconstructions to assess how unimportant the color of Gavin’s eyes are to any response the detective may give. It unsettles him that he would lose control over his internal processes over something as insignificant as his partner’s appearance.

Right now, those eyes are the color of a storm and Nines finds this comparison apt: Gavin’s sneer reflects the detective’s disapproval at being micromanaged and instead of answering, he taps his pen louder, his eyes returning to his own computer screen. There’s something else in the way he often looks at Nines but the android doesn’t want to believe Gavin’s developed anything other than anger towards Nines for the termination of their sexual relationship. The loss of a convenient source of gratification must not be more than a minor aggravation for his partner. Nines has only to look to the most recent love bites on Gavin’s neck to see how quickly the detective has moved on in the month since they stopped having intercourse. From the pattern of the bruising, he determines that they have been received within less than 12 hours, the numerous deductions he’s made in the split second glance appearing in the upper corner of his visual.

Something akin to discomfort has Nines forcing the information from the corner of his vision. It should not—does _not—_bother him that Gavin wears evidence of his encounters. Nines is a machine and machines shouldn’t equate what they experience post-deviancy with genuine human emotion. He understands, as Gavin had helped him realize, that these sensations are clever mimicry.

Nines doesn’t _care _for Gavin in any romantic sense, because he’s incapable. Gavin’s not _hurt _by Nines because Gavin wouldn’t care for a machine.

It’s wounded pride, not hurt, that’s made Gavin less tolerable, far meaner, in their interactions.

“Detective.”

The tapping stops.

“Heard you the first time, dipshit.”

The tapping starts once more.

Nines allows it, already detecting Gavin’s frustration in the sharpness of his response. Provoking an ornery animal is never ideal under any circumstance and Nines can quite easily anticipate what is to occur should he make this an issue. He values productivity at work and has learned through his deviancy that he loathes distraction.

Fighting, for example, would qualify as an unnecessary distraction.

Yet, as he logically assesses his options, there’s something about the _way_ Gavin continues to contribute to the noise within the bullpen that makes Nines stare sharply back at the detective, awakens a counter-intuitive urge that he can no longer ignore. Reaching across their desks, Nines yanks the pen from Gavin’s hand.

“Hey!”

Nines crushes it in his hand, blue ink spattering across his palm and hitting the cuff of his jacket. Gavin’s eyes briefly widen, something dark and heated making those irises appear almost blue, and then his expression twists into the kind of predictable rage that no longer surprises the android.

The remnants of the pen clatter into the wastebasket beside Nines’ desk.

“What the fuck you do that for?!” Gavin hisses angrily.

Nines identifies the four ink drops on the cuff of his jacket, its chemical composition appearing in the corner of his vision. It’s a challenge to remain hyper focused on the density of the stains as the detective’s voice is having an affect on him, one he would rather not analyze.

“Your attempts at provocation have not gone unnoticed. Rather than indulge them, I have simply eliminated the catalyst,” Nines answers, folding his hands in front of him.

He looks at Gavin impassively, in a way he recalls had bothered the detective in the earlier days of their partnership. ‘Creepy as fuck,’ had always been sneered at him whenever Nines tried to use his limitations to his advantage, giving Gavin his undivided attention. But whereas he hopes it will intimidate Gavin enough to have the detective abandon his ire, Gavin’s become far too intimately acquainted with him and unruly to back down.

“Seems to be your answer to everything: eliminate the fucking problem instead of dealing with your shit,” Gavin quips in a way that is far too personal to be simply mean-spirited.

Nines attempts to narrow his eyes, as he’s seen other of his kind do, but his brows only move so much and he ends up blinking instead. His social protocols warn him of the hostility he’s being met with but he feels at a loss, unable to determine what Gavin is implying.

“I would like us to work together cordially,” Nines states, preconstructing that appealing to Gavin’s—well, often _questionable—_work ethic is his best option to de-escalate this argument. “For the sake of appearances, it would be in our best interests to maintain a strictly professional—”

“Fucking Christ, you always gotta act like such a god damn _machine?_!” Gavin snaps.

It’s louder than he intends, Officer Miller glancing over awkwardly at the pair. Color fills Gavin’s cheeks, the detective’s erratic heartbeat indicating the increase in his stress levels. Yet, it isn’t the sudden attention Gavin’s drawn that unsettles the android: it’s the inflection in the word as the detective says it, the insult driven by more than Gavin’s disgust for Nines’ species.

If Nines wasn’t so wary of all the ways Gavin’s used and manipulated him in the past, he would almost think Gavin’s _hurt_ by the way Nines is acting.

Yet, that doesn’t make sense: Nines specifically ended their sexual relationship when he determined Gavin was trying to manipulate him emotionally by acting as if he wanted something more than the strict parameters in which they engaged in intercourse. To what end, Nines could not be certain but as a precaution, he removed himself from their arrangement before he fell for the tactic, refusing to allow himself to be belittled and shamed in the way Gavin had done so after their first night together. Nines never wants to be treated in that way again.

Emotions still confuse him. His own, he neglects, the chaos at which Gavin inspires in him too conflicting to give any discernible meaning to. In others, he rarely can determine when they’re being earnest from disingenuous, though sarcasm is something he has come to recognize in his conversations with Gavin.

All his social programming, however, is failing him as Gavin turns away and makes a sound of resignation.

“Forget it,” Gavin mumbles, stalking past Nines’ desk. He mutters beneath his breath, inaudible to anyone who doesn’t have an audio component as sensitive as an RK unit’s, “Can’t expect a useless toaster to give a shit.”

_I want you, Nines._

It’s there, to be replayed and analyzed for the 347th time. Nines has already driven himself to a point at which deactivation would be preferable, a handful of simple words Gavin had uttered in a moment of questionable ‘vulnerability’ uprooting everything the android had thought he understood of their arrangement.

Gavin had been stressed and distraught. A near death experience has that kind of impact on humans, making them erratic and emotional.

It wasn’t affection. It’s never been about affection. Gavin had only attempted to take what he felt he can have in a moment of vulnerability triggered by external factors he had no control over.

He hadn’t cared for Nines then. He doesn’t care now.

But as Gavin storms out of the bullpen, doubt takes root in the android’s mind before he pushes it aside and buries it with the rest of what he refuses to ‘feel’. There is work to be done and he has already wasted precious minutes entertaining Gavin’s tantrum.

As he goes to type at the keyboard, he notices the ink still on his fingers.

Rising quietly from his seat, he goes to the break room to wash away the blue ink, along with the uncomfortable speculations that, for all of 2.78 seconds, made him almost question the one aspect of his relationship with his partner that he’s recognized as an objective truth in the many months since their confrontation in the parking lot:

Gavin doesn’t care about him.

**[Relationship: Gavin Reed – hostile]**

* * *

Rain patters gently against the windows, the city skyline a hazy glow through the droplets trickling down the opposite side of the glass. Nines stands in front of it, staring out into nothing in the middle of his sparsely furnished apartment, preparing to power down for the evening. All the lights are shut off, unneeded given his superior components, the only glow the yellow that spins at his temple as he runs a final scan of the data he accumulated at work today. Information he had once meticulously stored, should it become useful at a later date, is now being reassessed, refiled, others deleted since he’s developed a better sense of what should be kept and what only takes up storage in his hard drive.

He startles visibly, a mere tensing of his posture—a tick he’s acquired, perhaps, from spending far too much time with RK800—as he scrutinizes the multitude of expressions Gavin had made in their earlier confrontation. Everything about the detective’s aggressive posture indicates Gavin’s hatred towards Nines but there is something far more visceral about the detective’s reactions that still leaves Nines questioning what precisely he is missing. He mulls over it for what feels an eternity—hardly more than 10 seconds, exhausting all explanations in his limited socializing software—and decides to consult a more viable source.

Not a week ago, he had inquired to RK800 about Gavin’s behavior and he pulls up parts of their non-verbal communication he had stored away.

[313 248 317-87]

_Detective Reed remains uncooperative and has given little indication he cares to adjust his behavior. His attitude makes him difficult to work with in the field._

[313 248 317-51]

_Do you wish to file a formal complaint? I can speak with the Lieutenant. I’m sure Hank could convince Captain Fowler to assign you a new partner, should you feel Detective Reed’s attitude is adversely affecting your investigations._

[313 248 317-87]

_Actually, I had been hoping to consult with you on how best to handle Detective Reed. I suspect that his recent hostility is not simply his ongoing displeasure of being partnered with an android. _

[313 248 317-51]

_Detective Reed’s hostility is not unexpected. He is a temperamental individual and may need longer to adjust to the change in your relationship. You were right to end the sexual arrangement you had. I would suggest giving him time. If he cares at all about his profession, he will eventually come around._

It had left Nines satisfied at the time, as he trusted Connor’s judgment better than his own when it came to assessing the emotions of the non-synthetics they work with. Looking over it now, however, he wonders if he wasn’t so hasty in accepting advice that was more convenient than it was helpful.

Deciding he has had enough in deducing his partner’s behavior—and reaching no satisfying conclusions—he begins to set his preferences for stasis. He doesn’t need to enter stasis tonight but has indulged the habit of committing a few hours every evening to it, if only for the sake of routine. As he’s about to power down, however, he receives an incoming message from the DPD.

_Urgent action required. All synthetic investigative units report to 7 Mile and Gratiot. 2 bodies—1 human male, mid to late 20s, and a PB500—have been discovered at the following residence. Report immediately to assist the officers on site. _

Within seconds of receiving the directive, Nines has hardly time to postpone stasis before another message pops up in his peripheral:

[313 248 317-51]

_RK900, do you know where Detective Reed is? Hank has attempted to contact him multiple times but it appears he is not answering his phone._

[313 248 317-87]

_I have just received a directive to report to 7 Mile and Gratiot. With the Lieutenant’s permission, I will seek out Detective Reed first and we will meet you at the crime scene._

[313 248 317-51]

_Thank you. I will let Hank know._

Suspecting that RK800 is already with the lieutenant, Nines takes the following silence from his predecessor to mean that the lieutenant is permitting him to arrive later to the crime scene. For a moment, he considers the multitude of information he has on Gavin and the resources at his disposal: Gavin Reed tends to avoid socializing and is most likely to be found at home on a work night. His apartment would be the most logical place to start. Yet, if Gavin was simply at home, he most likely would have responded to work by now.

Nines has no choice but to conclude that, in all likelihood, the detective is out and distracted, enough so that he’s neglecting his phone. The next option would be to venture to the handful of establishments the android is aware Gavin would visit after work. Perhaps he is having drinks with Officers Carson and Moore as the three have gone out together multiple times since Nines began his placement at the DPD. However, visiting each bar would be incredibly time consuming, especially when there is another option.

Recalling all those months before when Nines had actively sought Gavin’s approval, the android accesses his online application and Gavin’s personal banking information he has stored away. It had been somewhat deceptive at the time—though Nines had been blinded by what he thought was real affection—to steal Gavin’s credit card information in an attempt to learn more about the detective through his purchases. It’s what had led Nines to one of the pornographic websites Gavin has membership to—and, subsequently, the knowledge that the detective has a very _specific_ preference when it came to androids. However, the information had seemed fruitful at the time and Nines rationalized retaining it in case it should ever prove genuinely useful, such as now.

Predictably, the password remains the same and Nines has immediate access to Gavin’s account. As he suspects, the detective’s card was used not eleven minutes ago, a charge of $60 at—

Nines’ thirium pump stutters.

No, that can’t be correct.

He assesses and reassesses what he has learned, already jumping to a variety of deductions that become more fantastical, and less plausible, as he runs through the different scenarios.

Gavin’s credit card’s been stolen. More likely, given how absent-minded the detective can get when distracted.

A purchase made for someone else. Possible, considering how much Gavin sneers at the locale, in spite of his predilections. Yet the only friends Nines is aware the detective has are also anti-android and would object to visiting such a place.

A purchase made by mistake...is most likely, not the case.

Nines would frown if he could, an odd sensation bursting in his circuits, numbing him in a way that he has briefly experienced in extreme cold temperatures. He doesn’t understand this discomfort, nor does he want to, and has to ignore it as he is required to find Gavin Reed and deliver him to the crime scene.

Turning on his heels, he removes his jacket from where it hangs near the door and calls an automated taxi, setting his destination for The Eden Club.

* * *

The bright glow of the establishment’s sign beckons him forward like a dark omen, that odd sensation becoming stronger as Nines stiffly exits the vehicle. Within a matter of paces, he’s flanked on both sides by ads promising him the _Sexiest Androids in Town, _yet he has no interest in entertaining what The Eden Club is offering. Not surprisingly, since the revolution and the deviation of most androids, places like this remain open to cater to the needs of humans. Even as he steps inside, he can see the deviated androids who have chosen to continue offering these services advertising themselves through flirtatious greetings and sensual dancing on the platforms. None of them glance in Nines’ direction, knowing that he will not be a source of income for them.

Nines is aware of places he could go that offer ‘comfort’ to androids, though those establishments are very...different. ‘Comfort’ androids interface with other androids in a one-way exchange where they receive data from their patrons and help that android cope with the ‘stress’ of assimilating into a society where discrimination remains rampant. Often, even deviated androids are unaware of how microaggressions can accumulate and having an outlet, an android willing to analyze that data with them and provide a positive exchange, is said to reduce stress levels in those that frequently utilize those kinds of services.

RK800 had suggested Nines consider this, back when it was clear that the constant barrage of negativity Nines was receiving from Gavin was having an adverse effect on him. However, Nines had dismissed such services as being ‘unnecessary’ and instead, had attempted to correct the situation between him and Gavin.

The result of that has now brought him here, of all places.

Nines doubts he could have preconstructed this outcome even back then.

“I am looking for a patron, Detective Gavin Reed,” Nines says, to the human working the counter. As the android anticipates, the man is unsettled by him but then becomes somewhat hostile when he realizes what Nines is requesting.

“Transactions are made between the android and the customer,” the man says, bristling. “Even if I knew who the hell’s in those rooms, I can’t let you in. You’re gonna have to wait out here.”

Nines conducts a quick scan. Currently, only 6 of the rooms are occupied. Any one of them could contain Gavin Reed.

“May I have access to your security footage?”

“Why the fuck would I give you that?”

“I am an investigative unit, sent by the Detroit Police Department to collect one of our officers,” Nines answers. He sends his ID to the data pad sitting in front of the man, confirming his identity. “I only require footage recorded in the last sixty minutes to confirm the detective’s presence here.”

The man—George Harter—glares suspiciously at the android. “I don’t care who the fuck sent you. You can’t just come in and—”

“You should be aware, Mr. Harter, that failure to provide that information will put you in violation of the State. You have multiple misdemeanors as it is. I would hate to see you once more on the wrong side of the law.”

Nines’ lack of inflection seems to make the man even more skittish. He shakes his head, mutters, and indicates to the monitor on the counter. “Fine, fine. Whatever—my ass better not get fired for this!”

As he predicted, the man is unfamiliar with the law and fails to call him out on his bluff. Nines interfaces with the monitor and scans footage from multiple cameras. Within 1.37 seconds, he has the serial number of the android Gavin selected and the room they went into.

“I thank you for your cooperation.”

The man says nothing, more bothered than comforted by Nines’ attempts at diplomacy. Nines tells himself he’s not upset by it, that he’s used to it. After all, it’s how everyone treats him.

He passes by one of the HR400s performing a complex lift on one of the poles. He tries to ignore that Gavin has also selected an HR400, though with different features, but each time he passes one of them in their Eden Club issued underwear, it makes his thirium pump stutter in a way that almost convinces him he will need to report to Cyberlife for emergency maintenance. If his pump is malfunctioning, it would explain this strange, discomforting feeling.

The door is locked when he arrives and requires a code to override it. He had, of course, also downloaded the overrides when he was interfacing so he inputs the correct code and the door slides open. Upon seeing and confirming Gavin Reed is in fact the one in this room, Nines experiences a multitude of things from the moment he enters and Gavin becomes aware of his presence.

The HR400, with his chiseled jaw and wider torso, barely fits the Cyberlife issued jacket he’s wearing but this doesn’t seem to bother Gavin, who’s writhing underneath him, fingers tangling into brown locks, head thrown back to release a throaty moan. The android nips at Gavin’s naked chest in a way Nines knows from personal experience the detective enjoys—red marks peppering olive skin. The HR400 makes sounds Nines will never be able to mimic, his hips grinding against the detective. Red blinks angrily at Nines’ temple and it’s as if his processor is buffering—attempting to catch up with what his visual receptors are receiving—as Nines stands there, dumbfounded, rooted to the spot.

Anger. Hurt. Rage. Jealousy. Envy.

His LED gives off rapid bursts, bathing the side of his face in red.

Nines can handle Gavin seeking sexual gratification from other humans. Perhaps, on some level, he is able to logically reason that there are things a human can give another human that an android cannot.

But for Gavin to purposely go out of his way to have intercourse with another android?

What Nines is feeling is something that he fails to give a name to.

“F-Fuck,” Gavin moans and this throws the android off even more. “Ah, ah, Ni—WHAT THE FUCK?!”

The detective shoves the HR400 off of him, scrambles back on the bed to properly cover himself with the blanket. The HR400, however, turns his gray eyes to Nines and a scowl immediately appears on the unit’s face. Nines is surprised at how this HR400 bears a loose resemblance to him and his predecessor though he notes—with something that he understands to be ‘_contempt’_—that the unit’s stronger jawline and more muscular torso are in line with the detective’s preferences. Going by appearances alone, Gavin must find this HR400 more physically appealing than Nines.

[216 455 912]

_You can’t be here. My client and I have reserved this space._

The iciness in the HR400’s expression does not intimidate Nines in the least. If anything, it only emboldens him to step further into the room, projecting his authority in his stiff posture and superior height.

[313 248 317-87]

_The detective no longer requires your services._

[216 455 912]

_You cannot—_

[313 248 317-87]

_GET. OUT._

Startled, the HR400 removes the jacket he’s been wearing—Connor’s worn coat, the one Nines left at Gavin’s—and hurries out of the room.

The door slides shut behind him and a thick tension fills the room.

His temple is blazing red and Nines can feel his stress levels skyrocketing. He’s unaware that his hands are balled into tight fists until he feels synthetic skin begin to peel away where his fingertips press into his palms. He eases his grip, glances to the detective huddled on the bed. But if he’s expecting to be met with rage equal to what he’s feeling, he’s startled to see Gavin embarrassed almost to the point of tears.

“Detective—”

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Gavin demands.

His voice is so quiet, Nines cannot be sure if he would have heard it if he was simply human.

“You are needed at a crime scene.”

And suddenly, Nines can’t even convince himself that his course of action made any rational sense.

“You couldn’t wait twenty fucking minutes?”

He hears that edge in Gavin’s voice, the walls coming up. That fight Gavin’s always itching to have and indulges every time he’s made to feel the least bit vulnerable. His hackles raised, he drops the blanket he’s gripping so it pools around his waist and in that split second, Nines identifies eight new marks the HR400 has added to the ones already fading from the detective’s chest.

In his jealousy, Nines violates the detective’s privacy further by looking back farther into Gavin’s purchasing history and confirms something he wants desperately to not be true.

“This isn’t your first time,” Nines declares.

The dates appear before him, mocking him: the 12th, the 9th, the 8th. Three other times this week alone.

“The fuck do you care what I waste my money on?” Gavin sneers. “I’m not getting it from you. Fuck, I had to get it from somewhere.”

Much against his better judgment, Nines simulates what those encounters must have been like: HR400’s preferable appearance, Gavin’s moans, all of it playing before him on that bed and nothing Nines attempts to command will wipe the preconstruction from his processor, the red at his temple now a violent swirl.

His eyes drop to the abandoned jacket near his feet. He bends down, picks it up and stares at it blankly. How he wishes he could express his rage because he’s screaming in his head and all his face will do is wear this dead expression forever frozen on his features.

“I see you have found someone else to fulfill your fantasies about Connor.”

And that...that seems to be Gavin’s breaking point.

He’s on his feet, right in Nines’ face, ripping the jacket from the android’s hands. The scowl on the detective’s face is angrier than anything Nines has ever seen but Nines is just as angry, even if he can’t outwardly express it. “You think that’s what all this shit’s about? Connor?!”

Gavin shoves at him but Nines is immovable, hands reflexively coming up to grasp the detective’s wrists. His grip is hard, keeping Gavin in place and preventing him from trying to push him again. He doesn’t realize he’s breaking blood vessels, marking the detective’s skin until Gavin’s swallowing a pained sound at the back of his throat. The jacket falls to the floor.

“If this is not about Connor, then you will need to explain to me what this is about, detective,” Nines says.

Gavin stares at him, his gaze unreadable. But the android can read his body, can read everything from the telltale signs of arousal to the heat searing against the tips of his fingers. It’s the first time he’s touched Gavin since that night and it’s doing confusing things to Nines’ central processor.

“...all those fancy upgrades and you still can’t see _shit_,” Gavin snaps.

He twists his hands out of the android’s grip and stalks to where his abandoned clothes are. Back turned to Nines, he viciously pulls a threadbare sock over one foot and reaches for the next. Though it violates every prompt Nines is trying to instigate, his eyes flick across the detective’s backside.

His thirium pump thrums harder.

“Detective—”

“Go wait outside.”

But Nines is not ready to end this conversation, is more conflicted than from when he first entered this room.

“Gavin—”

“Will you fuck off and let me change?”

Gavin’s voice cracks in a way that has him turning his face. And though Nines is still not the greatest at reading body language, he knows enough about Gavin to understand there’s a reason for it.

Gavin doesn’t want Nines to see him cry.

Unable to cling to his own anger any longer, Nines silently acquiesces and leaves the room. Out in the main area of the sex club, Nines detects the HR400 lingering nearby. He wants nothing more than to avoid an unnecessary confrontation but it seems, he has no choice.

“Next time you interrupt me with one of my customers, I’m filing a harassment complaint,” the HR400 says, frostily. “I have rights, too.”

“I was merely following a directive,” Nines answers.

The HR400 glares at him but doesn’t say anything else. He walks away but not before sending one final message via a communication prompt:

[216 455 912]

_Markus didn’t free us to follow ‘directives’. Try thinking for yourself. Maybe then, your human ‘friend’ will stop paying for me._

And though he recognizes his intentional cattiness, Nines has never felt more inadequate.

* * *

Gavin’s radiating hostility as they make their way to the crime scene, fingers tense as they grip the wheel. Rain pitter-patters against the windshield and the uneasy tension has Nines watching the wipers as they swipe back and forth. But unlike the contemplative calm of his apartment, he finds no comfort in staring out the window, only does so to avoid inviting more of Gavin’s anger. Nines’ LED has not stopped blaring red and he is recycling through multiple social prompts but finding that almost every outcome will lead to an even bigger argument.

He glances at the detective through his peripheral and debates if he should attempt at mediation. There’s something exhausting about always being prepared to argue with the detective and it’s taught the android firsthand the meaning of the idiomatic expression: ‘walking on eggshells’. However, while there’s a side of him that’s grown more stubborn in the time since his activation, he can acknowledge that in this instance, he is in the wrong.

“Detective, you should know I am sincerely—”

“You even think of finishing that fucking sentence and I’ll turn you into scrap metal.”

They remain silent the rest of the ride.

At the crime scene, Gavin’s mood takes a turn for the worse. He openly belittles Nines, challenges every deduction the android makes, and even tries to get Officer Miller involved in some counterproductive bullying, the latter appearing uncomfortable to be thrust in the middle of whatever’s going on between them. In truth, it’s not particularly different from how Gavin treated him prior to Nines using sex as incentive for the detective to be more respectful towards him, but there is something particularly vicious and spiteful in the way Gavin conducts himself. It gets so bad that even Hank has to step in and the lieutenant is none too pleased about it.

“Hey, Reed? Maybe try being less of an asshole for once. It’s late, we’re all tired. There’s no need to take it out on your partner.”

It’s posed as a suggestion but the glare on the lieutenant’s face conveys his meaning clearly. It has Gavin sneering under his breath, stalking off to grumble to anyone else who will listen. RK800’s equally as angry on Nines’ behalf but given how Connor’s never been afraid to confront Gavin when he’s out of line, Nines is relieved that for once his predecessor is holding back.

Shortly after Gavin leaves, Connor approaches Nines. The android is quiet as he stands beside him, his LED cycling yellow as he opens a private communication channel. Nines knows RK800 prefers not to do this, finds it equivocal to the way coworkers may secretly gossip about those they work with, but Nines would much rather nobody overhear their conversation.

[313 248 317-51]

_If you would excuse my prying, is there a particular reason Detective Reed is being more hostile than usual? If this behavior continues at work, I will have no choice but to ‘remind’ him of how inappropriate his conduct is._

Nines, who has only known humiliation at Gavin’s harsh mistreatment earlier in their partnership, experiences a somewhat similar sensation when he considers _why_ Gavin’s upset. He decides to keep that information to himself.

[313 248 317-87]

_The details are hardly important. I...believe that I had crossed a line with the detective this evening and in spite of my apologies, he may need some time to process it. I do not blame him for his behavior at the crime scene._

Connor glances at him, a frown appearing on his face. How sad that even an expression of displeasure is something Nines can’t help but envy.

[313 248 317-51]

_I have a hard time believing anything the detective took offense to was done intentionally. In my limited experience, humans have a difficult time processing a breakup, particularly if they have developed a strong, emotional attachment to their ex-partner. He may be projecting his hurt through his continued hostility towards you._

Nines stares at him, only able to express his surprise through blinking. His LED feels as if it’s burning a hole in his temple, his processor assessing the information he’s receiving. He cycles through multiple compilations of data, the many moments with Gavin he keeps saved and filed away, attempts to corroborate what RK800 is telling him. But even if Nines has far less experience with people than Connor, nothing about his limited understanding of affection leads him to conclude that Gavin’s ever felt a ‘strong, emotional attachment’ towards him.

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_I believe you have misjudged the nature of our relationship. Detective Reed has never expressed anything beyond contempt for our species. It is clear that it is his wounded pride that has resulted in his current behavior towards me._

Connor stares at him in surprise, the words he utters so quiet, it would take the superior hearing of an android to make them out. “...I thought you knew.”

Nines tilts his head, failing to discern RK800’s meaning.

[313 248 317-87]

_What is it you thought I knew?_

[313 248 317-51]

_I thought you knew Gavin Reed is in love with you when you terminated your relationship._

It’s as if his pump is no longer functioning, thirium stagnating in his wires as he deliberates what Connor is telling him. There are a series of refutations he wishes to convey contrary to the conclusion RK800 has reached but the more he considers the possibility, the more aggravating it is to realize that all he’s left with is uncertainty.

[313 248 317-87]

_He is not ‘in love’ with me._

But Nines is not in the least confident that he truly believes that. More troubling, Connor’s use of the present tense paints the entire evening in a whole new light. A gray-eyed Traci wearing the jacket Nines used to wear when being intimate with Gavin?

No. It’s not possible.

[313 248 317-51]

_The scans I have conducted on him when he is in your presence would indicate otherwise. It also explains why he is not adapting well to the change in your relationship. Break-ups are often difficult._

A break-up? They never even had a romantic relationship!

Nines wants to argue more about how incorrect Connor is but then Hank’s at the android’s side, umbrella in hand. “Ready to go, Con?”

“Yes, Hank.”

Despite their professionalism, Nines sees the little changes in Connor’s expression: there’s a slight crinkling around his eyes, an ease at which his mouth pulls in a small smile. In a way, it’s almost as if the lieutenant’s very presence ‘softens’ Connor and Nines is once again envious that RK800 can externally show the sensations he’s experiencing.

“Do you need a ride, Nines?”

Nines is so distracted by his bitter musings, he almost misses the lieutenant’s question. His LED blinks yellow. “I have contacted a taxi and it should arrive shortly. I will see both of you at the precinct tomorrow.”

Hank opens the umbrella and Connor steps under it with him as they both make their way to the lieutenant’s car. In the darkness of the night and through the haze of rain, Nines can just make out the subtle of a touch, Connor’s hand finding its way around the lieutenant’s arm.

With the communication channel now closed between them, Nines is left to his own thoughts as he waits for the taxi. He spends more time than he anticipated that night picking apart everything Gavin’s said to him, replaying his ‘memories’ of the detective and those moments of confusing vulnerability when Nines had responded to Gavin in ways that seemed to hurt the detective, even if unintended. It’s not until he’s about to enter stasis that Nines accepts what he’s been denying all night:

Gavin Reed’s in love with him.

_Fuck._

* * *

If Nines had been hoping that stasis would provide any clarity on the situation, he is disappointed to discover that he is as conflicted the next morning as he had been the night before. The emotions he had endured back when he had thought he was in love with Gavin remain ever present but he now regards them with mistrust, the mere product of his forced socialization with the detective. He thinks of Connor’s hand curling around the lieutenant’s arm, the shy warmth in the subtle pull of Hank’s lips, and Nines can only conclude that what they have is something he will never find with Gavin. Whatever it is Gavin feels for him—and what he feels for Gavin—is not what love _should_ feel like. It shouldn’t hurt and humiliate him like this, make him wish that he could scrape away the layers of metal and replace it with soft, organic flesh.

Gavin makes Nines _ashamed_. Because Nines knows that in Gavin’s eyes, he will never be good enough.

Pushing the dreary revelations from his processor, he goes through his morning routine, stiffly slides into his Cyberlife issued clothing. His fingers fall away after clipping the button on his pants, eyes blinking at the impassive expression staring back at him in the full-length mirror. He recalls how humans relax whenever they see RK800’s soft smile or the tenderness in her voice when ST300—the receptionist, Grace—greets staff as they enter the DPD. Everyone responds positively to their human-like mannerisms while they spurn and avoid RK900.

Nines pulls his lips, sees something of a grimace as he attempts to smile.

_Fucking creepy._

Gavin’s voice plays clearly in his processor.

Nines tries to frown, express his displeasure, but all he manages is to blink, his brows barely moving.

_You having a phuckin’ seizure or some shit?_

He clenches and un-clenches his hands.

Nines then tries to widen his eyes, lift his brow bridge in ‘surprise’, but he has no ‘muscles’ to respond, is simply staring at a face frozen between ‘shocked’ and a glare.

_Now you just look fucking stupid, Tin Can, _the detective chuckles cruelly in the memory he’s replaying.

It _hurts._ Every one of Gavin Reed’s criticisms cutting him deep enough, he feels it within the smallest of components that comprise his parts. All Gavin Reed sees are his inadequacies and it bleeds away all the colors in the world until all RK900 is left with is red.

In a surge of anger, Nines crashes his fist into the reflective glass, cracks webbing the mirror while chunks of it cut into his fist. Blue trickles from his knuckles at the point of contact, dribbling until they stain the cracked surface in tiny blue smears.

His stoic expression stares back at him even as a rage burns inside.

Blue. Always blue. Never the right color.

At his temple, the LED violently swirls the color he’ll never bleed.

* * *

Gavin’s not at the DPD when Nines arrives. This isn’t that surprising to the android. It’s too early for the detective to roll in and given his recent pattern of behavior, Nines predicts there is a 63.41% chance the detective may use a sick day to avoid another awkward confrontation with his partner. There is nothing Nines has to say to him that will provide either of them with any satisfaction so if the detective fails to come in, it will delay a conversation he is hoping to never have.

RK900, who has always believed in approaching a situation with detached logic absent of the complications of emotion, desires instead to hide behind cowardice and pretend he’s oblivious to Gavin’s feelings.

So, he goes about his morning, begins the report from last night’s crime scene of his assessment of the evidence. More than thirty minutes tick by, his HUD unhelpfully supplying that Gavin Reed is, in fact, either late or absent. He tries to ignore it but his processor seems intent to torture him, the objective he’d set to FOLLOW UP ON THE CASE WITH DET. REED remaining incomplete. The easiest solution would be to reassign his objectives for that morning but in his stubbornness, he decides instead he will seek out the lieutenant and find out if Gavin Reed has indeed taken a sick day.

The bullpen is mostly quiet—far quieter than usual—and Nines detects a source of commotion coming from the meeting room. Quite a few of the officers, including some of the detectives, have gathered in there and are listening to a dispatch.

Determining that both RK800 and Lieutenant Anderson are there as well, Nines heads to that room. As he approaches, his auditory receivers pick up the dispatch—active shooters have opened fire in an apartment complex ten blocks away and the officers at the scene are requesting assistance. Murmurs can be heard among the officers but RK900 ignores them as he registers the badge numbers of those responding to the dispatch.

“—Gavin Reed, badge #2199, show me going—”

Nines freezes.

From across the room, Connor’s eyes immediately find his. The concern is splashed across the android’s face, everything in that moment slowing down as Nines’ pump regulator seems to forget to operate. It takes his processor a few seconds to catch up, an unexpected numbing sensation making the components in his chest cavity work extra hard to keep him functional.

Panic.

That is what this is.

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_Nines, you shouldn’t—_

Nines blocks the communication channel as he sprints towards the entrance. His mind palace constructs the fastest route to the building as well as accesses the dispatch to keep up to date with the situation. To his distress, two officers are already down by the time he makes it outside.

Scanning the parking lot, his options are limited. Hacking a smart vehicle, especially one with a functioning AI, would be no different than ‘hacking’ another android and thus, even with his superior software, he rules that out as a possibility. Hot-wiring a car would be significantly simpler but only Detective Reed seems stubborn enough to drive one of those older models and his car is not here.

Nines’ cool gaze falls to the police motorcycle.

It’ll have to do.

Interfacing with the Yamaha, he easily bypasses the security and is revving the engine within seconds. He peels out of the parking lot just as Connor runs out of the building, his shouts drowned by the roar of the bike. Nines doesn’t even bother to decipher what Connor had attempted to say to him, his mind only on one objective:

**[Protect Gavin Reed]**

Following the optimal path he has laid out, he weaves through the traffic, ignoring every warning of a traffic violation when he cuts too close to other vehicles and runs a red, swerving into a side alley and only just avoiding a collision. He accelerates and sees his destination is up ahead, accesses as much as he can find on the apartment complex. According to what’s been said in the dispatch, it’s a red ice bust gone sideways after three of the dealers broke into an informant’s home. Two officers dead, two others removed from the scene due to critical injuries and now, S.W.A.T. is being called in.

_They might not make it in time,_ he deduces, that odd sensation making his wires feel as if they’re twisted in knots. His stress levels are rising the more seconds tick by without any word about Detective Reed. He’s attempted multiple times to message the detective but all of his texts have gone unanswered.

Nines slams on the breaks, the bike skidding to where the police have blockaded the building. He hops off the motorbike and lets it crash on the ground, scanning everything around him as he beelines to the gate. Two ambulances sit nearby and civilians are still fleeing the apartments, assisted by some of the officers. Nines determines that the injured are not Detective Reed but he doesn’t have a way of identifying the bodies in the body bags and this alone is enough to make his pump whir faster. His face is stone-cold but inside, he’s an absolute mess.

In an effort to calm his overworked components, he takes a moment to assess the situation: it’s only been a quarter of an hour since Gavin Reed reported at the scene and not two minutes later, the dispatch announced two had died. A third has been added since. In all likelihood, Gavin couldn’t have been either of the first two, going by the detective’s poor fitness and the time it would take to make it to the third floor apartment where the shooters are. As illogical as the concept of ‘hope’ is, it’s all he has to go on that Gavin isn’t in the third body bag.

Nines roughly weaves his way through the people escaping, makes it past the police line, and marches to where the officer in charge is barking into the dispatch and demanding to know why the fuck S.W.A.T. has yet to arrive.

“—how many more fucking men do I gotta lose before you assholes get your shit together?!”

The woman cusses again, sneer on her lips. Nines can’t help but feel she would get on quite well with Detective Reed.

“—and where the hell do you think you’re going, Robocop?!”

Nines freezes, the nickname, unintended by her, making his thirium pump thrum dully. He constructs the part of the building he’s facing in his mind palace, sees the three shooters in their apartment and two others exchanging fire with them. The officers in front of him are blocking the gate while the lieutenant at the scene glares up at him.

One of the officers attempting to enter the apartment is then shot fatally.

“My name is Richard. I am an RK900, an investigative android sent by—”

“So help me if you say, ‘sent by fucking Cyberlife’, I’m gonna start shitting nickels.”

That is not the kind of language Nines would ever use, nor does he conclude ‘shitting nickels’ to be a comfortable experience for a human but the randomness of such a remuneration is ignored as one of the shooters in the apartment is also shot and killed.

“—sent by the Central Station to assist your unit,” RK900 lies. He has what Gavin once referred to as a ‘poker face’ and for once, his inability to make facial expressions or inflect his vocals works to his advantage, gives the impression of an android merely reporting for duty.

“Androids can’t respond to dispatches. Why the fuck would the Central Station send me someone I can’t fucking use?” she demands, jabbing Nines in the chest. “I have officers dying all around me! I don’t need androids; I need fucking backup—!”

“There are two injured in the stairwell and another officer dead on the third floor,” Nines says. He tries not to think of any of the dead being Gavin, tries not to let that panic make his vocals crack with static. “It seems, lieutenant, that until S.W.A.T. arrives, I’m your best option.”

“Fuck,” she cusses under her breath and Nines can see the distress in her eyes, even as she attempts to hide it behind a scowl. Based on her heart rate and body language, he deduces that someone important to her is also in that building.

“Send him in,” she finally decides.

“But, lieutenant—”

“I’ll deal with the fucking red tape,” she snaps at the protesting officer. “Roberts! Jefferson! You heard him! We’ve got two more bleeding out on the stairs!”

Nines follows two of the cops into the building, directs them to where he detected the downed officers. Neither is Gavin Reed. With the cops assisting them, Nines carefully creeps up to the third floor, doing his best to avoid stepping in places where the wood is more prone to creaking. As he’s about to sneak into the hallway, a shot can be heard, along with the sound of someone crying out in pain and he’s both relieved and alarmed to realize he knows that voice.

_Gavin!_

The detective is dragged into the apartment by one of the shooters, cursing and snarling at them. From in his mind palace, Nines sees the shooter kick roughly at Gavin’s side, from where the bullet pierced him, and the strangled groan the detective fails to hold back has Nines abandoning his cautious approach and bolting towards the apartment.

“Put one in the asshole’s head already! Shut him up for good!”

“I-I dunno. We were only supposed to deal with that snitch,” the one closest to Gavin says. “W-we shot s-so many cops. W-we—

Nines sees the spilled blood in the entryway, ducks inside and hides behind the overturned kitchen table. The two shooters are too busy arguing to notice him.

“That’s the asshole who killed Jerome! Don’t waste no tears on that prick!”

In his anger, the more aggressive one elbows his companion hard and storms over to Gavin, aiming the gun point blank. The detective is gripping at his side, defiant in spite of the severe blood loss, glaring up into death with more vitriol to throw in his attackers’ faces. His vitals pop up in Nines’ HUD, along with an assessment of how much blood he must have lost in the time since he was struck and his probability of pulling through. Nines wishes it would _stop_ because he doesn’t want to know these numbers.

“Fucking asshole! Too god damn spineless to do it yourself!” Gavin sneers, spitting at the man’s feet.

For not the first time, Nines can’t help but want Gavin to shut up. He has always felt the detective’s recklessness would one day be his undoing but, preferably, not like _this._

As the man cocks his gun, Nines has no choice but to go into action. Taking out his own firearm, he kicks the table, startling the two men. The more skittish one is too nervous to react and though Nines can deduce from his behavior he most likely had not delivered many, if any, of the fatal shots that killed the other officers, Nines abandoned his limited empathy the moment Gavin was injured. He fires and kills him with a shot through the skull, only just dodging as the remaining shooter turns his gun on him. Nines twists as another bullet zips by, reacting with what would seem like inhuman speed. It’s enough to surprise the shooter and that half-second is all Nines needs to aim and take him out.

Two shots fired, two dead.

Nines falls to his knees at Gavin’s side, pushing away the detective’s hands to press his own more firmly against the bleeding wound. Gavin shivers and this only makes the panic Nines had been trying to firewall course through his wires, his HUD reassessing Gavin’s current state.

**[Blood loss: 39.24%]**

The detective’s heart rate is too high, his blood pressure too low. He’s going into shock.

“Detective, I need you to focus on my voice,” Nines says. He knows Gavin hates how monotonous his voice is but that it remains steady and even should help to keep the detective calm. “Stay with me.”

Gavin gargles something, his bloodied fingers reaching up towards Nines’ cheek. Nines is shaking his head, trying to indicate to his idiot partner to not waste his energy but he can’t force Gavin’s hand back down, is too afraid to release his grip on the detective’s wound.

**[Blood loss: 40.97%]**

“N-Nines,” Gavin rasps out, as if uncertain it’s really him.

“Yes, Gavin, I’m here,” Nines continues. Fingers touch his cheek, smearing blood on his synthetic skin. But Nines doesn’t care, reflexively leans a bit closer. He’s contacting the dispatch downstairs, informing them that the shooters have been eliminated and that there’s an officer in critical condition. But even as his LED burns red, as the fans in his chassis whir to calm his thirium pump, which is attempting to match Gavin’s pulse in the android’s distress, never once does Nines take his eyes off his partner. “A paramedic should be up in a moment. All you must do is stay awake—”

“I-I’m s-s-sorry.”

The apology stuns Nines. Gavin has never said ‘sorry’ before, not in a genuine way that didn’t precede sexual gratification.

“Detective, you do not need to apologize—” Nines starts, assuming, in his confusion, that the detective must be apologizing for the android having to come here to help him.

“I-I’m so s-s-sorry,” Gavin says again. Tears trickle from the corner of his eyes, dripping into his hairline. The fingertips on Nines’ cheek weakly press into the pale skin. “F-f-for e-everyth-thing.”

**[Blood loss: 41.49%]**

Gavin’s breathing rapidly, sweat dotting his skin.

He’s dying.

And all Nines can think, as red bleeds through the cracks in his fingers, drips onto the old carpet, is the one thing that he has always denied:

_I love you._

Pain for an android is quite different than it is for a human. Androids wishing to be closer to the humans they were meant to imitate have received upgrades that allow their wires to receive ‘pain’ signals in the way that a human’s brain would register an unpleasant sensation. Nines had never been allowed to have that upgrade as Cyberlife deemed it would make him less effective.

Yet what he is experiencing in this moment—with the probability of Gavin surviving now dipping below 30%—is, perhaps, the closest he will ever come to knowing pain.

He loves Gavin. He loves him in spite of the detective’s cruelty and hatred, in spite of knowing he has only ever been a pale imitation of Connor in Gavin’s eyes. He loves Gavin and he knows it’s not the result of programming or their continued socialization.

He loves Gavin and Gavin’s going to die.

“You must stay awake,” Nines repeats, at a loss of what to do.

“S-s-sor...” the detective mumbles, his eyelashes fluttering closed.

“Gavin,” Nines says.

In his head, he’s screaming the detective’s name as he feels the detective’s heartbeat begin to slow, the detective beginning to slip away.

But all he can do is monotonously utter the detective’s name, like a corrupted mp3 file skipping on a broken note, the only answer: silence.

* * *

Not long after Gavin slipped into unconsciousness, the paramedics arrived. Nines still can’t recall the time from which he communicated Gavin’s condition to the time they’re wheeling Gavin into emergency. Though his optical units and audio receivers record everything with a crisp clarity for later analysis, it’s as if he’s on autopilot throughout the whole ordeal, standing stoically in the waiting room and determining the probability of Gavin surviving. The numbers never change, the numerous outcomes all indicating that it’s not a matter of _if_ but _when_ the detective should succumb to his injuries. The stress is enough to make his chassis whir loudly as his fans try to cool his overheating components, though to any casual observer, they would simply see an android with a rim-rod posture and a placid expression on his face, assume he’s one of those models that refuses to deviate and continues to serve, in spite of the freedom he’s been offered.

Detecting how unsettled other visitors are by him, the android idles around the vending machines and, when that proves fruitless, ventures around the floor, scans to get a clear layout. As he catches his reflection in a window, he sees the smears of blood still on his face, realizes his hands are stained red, and understands the looks he’s been receiving are not the ones most humans give him as a result of his lack of expression.

He finds a bathroom and cleans up as best as he can, the water swirling crimson as it follows a path down the drain. He stares at it, at a loss, as Gavin’s very life essence is cleansed from his synthetic flesh. When he considers himself presentable, he returns to the waiting room.

“Nines!”

Connor approaches him in a few strides, hand extended as the skin peels away. In the moment RK900 interfaces with him, he’s forced to confront the multitude of emotions that have been buried beneath his unchanging face: his fear for Gavin’s impending death, his sadness for realizing too late what Gavin means to him, his anger for failing to protect his partner. The intensity of it must be overwhelming for even Connor, who breaks the connection once he’s experienced the full wave of what Nines is enduring.

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_I’m sorry._

It should be a hollow, empty platitude. Logically, one’s apologies for a situation they cannot understand are as fruitless as religion, in Nines’ opinion. But seeing his pain reflected on RK800’s face, Nines knows that those two words are expressing _everything, _that all Connor can give him is sympathy. Maybe, it’s enough.

“Any news on Reed?”

Nines cants his head towards the lieutenant. He had almost forgotten Connor was accompanied by Anderson. “They have yet to update me on his condition.”

There’s more that Anderson appears to want to ask but a gentle touch on his shoulder, Connor shaking his head, has the lieutenant shutting his mouth.

So they wait. They wait what’s probably hours before an android comes to speak with them. Anderson is notably more nervous than Nines has ever seen him but he recalls that the lieutenant has not exactly had the best of experiences in a hospital.

“Detective Reed is in stable condition and is being transferred to the ICU,” the android informs them.

If Nines could, he knows he would be crying, the shock of Gavin pulling through despite his projections buried beneath the wave of relief that finally seems to calm his rapidly whirring thirium pump. He is almost unable to properly communicate as the android continues to update them on Gavin and is grateful to have Hank take charge and ask the most relevant questions.

Against Connor’s insistence, Nines remains at the hospital overnight instead of returning to their home with them. He is determined to remain at the hospital until Gavin wakes up, entering into a light stasis overnight. As a precaution, he uses one of his few vacation days to avoid any bureaucratic repercussions when he fails to show up for work the next morning.

It’s sometime around noon when Nines is informed Gavin is awake and can receive visitors. Visitation rights for androids is one of the few controversial areas for the expansion of liberties to their kind: prior to this, only caretaker units registered to a human would be permitted to visit and that’s only if their presence was deemed necessary for the well-being of their human companion, as hospitals are often staffed with their own androids that fulfill those functions. Under the new laws, Nines doesn’t need to provide ‘proof’ of his relationship to the patient, though the hospital does require Gavin’s explicit permission before Nines is allowed into the ward.

As Nines enters into the room, a curtain separating Gavin from the other patients, he makes his footfalls louder to not startle the detective. The many tubes and the steady bleep of the heart monitor would bother humans, perhaps elicit a sense of pity. But never has Nines heard a more satisfying sound as the beating of Gavin’s heart means one important thing:

Gavin Reed is alive.

“Good afternoon, detective,” Nines says, stopping at his bedside.

Gavin turns his head ever slightly towards the sound, the movement seeming to take almost too much effort. Those dried, chapped lips pull weakly in the hint of a smile, the detective’s gaze misty as his eyes begin to well.

“H-Hey, T-Tin C-Can,” Gavin whispers, his throat so dry, the nickname comes out rougher than the sound of sandpaper being rubbed against a surface.

Nines’ pump hums.

That he even doubted for a moment that he loves him seems even more ridiculous.

He eyes the glass of water on the nightstand. “My scans indicate that you are dehydrated. May I?”

Gavin nods.

With great care, Nines props up Gavin in a position that doesn’t put stress on his injuries. Then, as the detective is unable to hold the glass, Nines gently brings it to his mouth and helps him drink. Gavin coughs after swallowing, a light wheeze, and once Nines is satisfied he has had enough, he sets the glass back down.

“Sh-shouldn’t you b-be at work?”

Nines cannot be certain but Gavin appears surprised by his presence. “I am using a vacation day and will continue to use them for the remainder of the week, should you want me here. I see little point of going into the station if I am without my partner.”

Gavin’s eyes well and he swallows, turns his head slightly to obscure Nines’ view of his face. The android doesn’t understand why the detective seems upset by his admission.

_Perhaps Connor is wrong, _he can’t help but wonder. _Perhaps my presence is upsetting the detective._

“Y-you shouldn’t be here,” Gavin says, quietly.

The detective still won’t look at him but every beat of the heart monitor thunders in the android’s audio units as he stares stonily at his partner.

Gavin doesn’t want him here.

And that devastates Nines almost as much as the memory of Gavin’s blood dripping from his hands.

“If you would rather I not be here, I can leave,” Nines says.

The last word cracks with static and the android feels the sting of Gavin’s rejection down to his tiniest wires.

“N-No. N-Not...” Gavin releases a shaky sigh. When he turns his head to face Nines, the detective’s eyes are clouded thick with the tears that have refused to spill and he inhales thickly, doesn’t speak until he seems certain he won’t cry. “Y-you came for me. A-After...after all those fucking things I said to you...”

“Of course I did,” Nines answers. “Your safety is my number one objective.”

And Gavin cries. It’s quiet and rough, gentle sobs that catch in this throat, make his chest quake as he fails to hold them back. The tears spill thick down his cheeks, dripping into his stubble until they fall in fat globs off his chin.

Nines is at more of a loss than ever, not understanding how this would upset Gavin or even what he should do. He doesn’t have any program for comfort, isn’t aware what form that comfort should take for someone he’s had sexual intercourse with. He can’t even be certain if any touch would be welcome as Gavin has always shirked Nines’ apologies in the past, has snapped to chase off the android rather than allow Nines to see him in what he considers a moment of weakness.

Nines doesn’t know _any_ of this because nothing between them has ever followed the few examples of ‘love’ he’s aware of.

So he stands there, feeling helpless, unable to determine if he should be apologizing for what he said or if he should quietly leave and let Gavin cry without an audience.

“I-I don’t d-deserve you,” Gavin sniffles. “I-I don’t—”

His words break into another sob as Nines hesitantly touches his hand. It’s warm and the android’s touch receptors seem to thrum with energy when Gavin weakly threads their fingers together. Few sensations feel as wonderful as being able to touch the detective so Nines silently lets Gavin finish crying, all the while, holding his hand tightly.

When his sobs subside, Gavin turns his sad, gray eyes to Nines. The android remembers what Gavin had said in those moments before both of them were certain he was dying, those words Gavin had uttered that had seemed more important to him than trying to stop himself from bleeding out.

_I’m sorry._

And Nines knows he meant it in the same way he knows that something has changed between them.

“I’m sorry as well, Gavin,” Nines says. He recalls the instances where he had erroneously dismissed the detective’s desire for something more intimate between them as nothing but a ploy to manipulate the android. How both of them have hurt each other, intended or otherwise, because of their inability to communicate honestly. “For everything.”

They don’t say much after that, though when the tears slip this time, Nines uses his free hand to swipe them away, always letting his touch linger. Gavin’s jaw fits perfectly in the palm of his hand and as sentimental and illogical as the rumination is, Nines likes to think it was made for this, that _he_ was made for Gavin, with all of his inadequacies.

Not once does he let Gavin’s hand go.

* * *

The next few days are spent at Gavin’s side and Nines learns more about his abrasive partner within a handful of hours than he’d learned in their nearly year-long partnership. He listens attentively whenever Gavin explains the various tv shows he likes to watch, the detective’s eyes getting a certain brightness to them that’s a definite improvement over the sadness that had been there during the first visit. Nines decides he likes Gavin like this, likes to see him animated and passionate about _something. _He is most surprised to learn of Gavin’s fondness for the unexplained and while he desires to correct the detective on multiple occasions over the likelihood of Big Foot and aliens in Area 51, he would much rather see the detective enlivened by his opinions and decides to save those debates for the future.

One other thing he hadn’t expected was Gavin’s fondness for cats. As the detective doesn’t have any pets, Nines had not considered that the animal videos Gavin often wastes time watching at work is due to his desire to someday get a cat.

“Why have you yet to adopt one?” Nines asks.

Gavin shrugs. “Never got around to it.”

At some point in their conversations, Nines realizes that Gavin is incredibly lonely. This is only reinforced by the knowledge that no one else they work with, besides a perfunctory visit from Fowler and Anderson, has come to see him. Gavin’s made many enemies at work through his belittling of others and anti-android sentiments so it comes as no surprise to Nines but also troubles the android. Even the visit from Connor, who has actually come to see Nines, is awkward between them and given how fond Gavin had once been of RK800, Nines is somewhat perplexed at how little Connor and Gavin have to say to each other.

“Captain Fowler has decided to give you back your vacation days,” Connor says to Nines, handing a tablet to the android. Nines is about to protest but Connor holds up his hand, a rather human gesture, to indicate he has more to say. “He anticipated your refusal to come into work while Detective Reed is recovering and has offered to allow you to complete your reports outside of the DPD. He also asks that you be available to appear at crime scenes if your expertise is needed.”

“I don’t understand,” Nines says, tilting his head as a way to show his confusion. “I have nowhere I wish to vacation to and thus will not require my vacation days in the future.”

[313 248 317-51]

_You may not wish to go anywhere. But, perhaps, Detective Reed does._

And Connor smirks as he glances knowingly between them.

Nines cannot blush but the way his thirium pump increases in activity is immediately detected by Connor and Nines is certain RK800 has also deduced the shift in their relationship.

By the end of the week, Gavin’s almost well enough to be discharged. After a particularly heated debate over UFO sightings, Nines finally deciding there is only so much of the detective’s ‘proof’ he can take, Gavin throws his hands up in defeat and mutters, “Fucking fine. You win.”

“I had not expected you to give up this easily, detective.”

“Yeah, well, all this god damn arguing’s making me thirsty. You gonna go get me a coffee?”

Nines is about to refuse the detective’s request but then he notes how Gavin is struggling, and failing, to hide a grin.

“Detective...if you are only conceding your point and sending me away so that you may look up what we have been arguing on your phone, you will be quite disappointed when the internet confirms I am right.”

Gavin scoffs. “Yeah, sure. Think you got me all figured out.”

“I will return with a cappuccino, with extra sugar, if you so much as touch your phone in the time I’m gone.”

“You wouldn’t fucking dare.”

“Wouldn’t I?”

Nines attempts his crooked not-quite-smile and instead of Gavin sneering at the expression, like he has in the past, the detective is chuckling. “Fine. I won’t touch my phone. See? My hands are free.”

‘Satisfied’, Nines exits the room but not before warning Gavin that he will be able to tell if Gavin breaks his promise. The detective mumbles, “Sure thing, T1000,” and though Nines reminds Gavin he’s an ‘RK900’, the detective is chuckling to himself, as if it’s some secret joke. It’s not until Nines is halfway to the cafe located on the lower floor that he does a search and realizes it’s a pop culture reference.

Just as Nines is about to enter the cafe, he sees two of the officers from the DPD coming towards him. His posture stiffens minutely as he identifies Officers Carson and Moore, both members of a local anti-android organization and two officers Gavin has often joined in on ridiculing or antagonizing the androids in the DPD in the past. Such behavior in the station was banned a month or so after Nines joined, particularly once androids started receiving more rights, but this hasn’t stopped the bigoted officers from harassing him when management isn’t looking.

“Hey, look, it’s Cyberlife’s expensive can opener,” Carson laughs, bumping Nines hard in the shoulder as they pass by him.

Nines ‘lets’ his body respond, taking a step back and remaining silent as they continue down the hall. Moore adds, “Bet Reed’s having the time of his life dealing with that plastic asshole,” and Nines recognizes the sarcasm in it, stares impassively at their retreating backsides as something uncomfortable shifts inside his chassis. He’s never had any interest in responding to their bullying and now that he’s deduced that they are here to visit Detective Reed, he’ll make an effort to linger back and avoid them them until they return to work.

That’s how Nines spends ten minutes longer than required to complete Gavin’s coffee order, pretending to consider other options besides ‘the usual’. All week, Gavin’s been insisting that Nines use the machine down the hall and even kept trying to give Nines his wallet but the android has refused and continues to make purchases from the cafe using his own funds. The look of contentment whenever Gavin drinks the cafe lattes—milk only, never sugar—makes it worth it every time.

With Gavin’s coffee in hand, Nines lingers outside of the room, waiting for the two officers to leave. Their conversation with Gavin seems friendly enough as they inquire after the detective’s health and even throw in a joke or two about how he’s ‘tough as nails’ as this isn’t the first gunshot injury Gavin’s survived. But, if Nines has anything to do with it, it will be the last.

Then, the conversation shifts and with Nines’ superior hearing, he may as well be in the room standing beside the officers when they inevitably begin asking about ‘the plastic’.

“Is Fowler making the hunk of metal play ‘nanny’ while you’re stuck in this place?” Carson demands, his tone taking a cruel edge. “Fucking bullshit. Taxpayer money being wasted so that plastic prick can bum around here for a week. Say the word and I’ll speak to the captain so we can get the plastic back at crime scenes licking shit.”

“Bet it’s fucking creepy they have _that _one here,” Moore says. “Coulda sent Connor. At least it won’t scare off as many of the doctors.”

Carson and Moore laugh, though Nines does not recognize what is humorous about their comments. In all honesty, he has never cared for their opinions. They can insult and berate him to his face all day and he will not so much as blink at their remarks. It is difficult to bring himself to be affected by those whose opinions he considers irrelevant.

He does, however, feel something that may be nervousness as their laughs die down and they wait for Gavin to comment. Gavin’s never come to his defense, is usually either joining in on the casual bullying or instigating it. And after everything that’s occurred between them, Nines doesn’t think he can handle Gavin falling back to old habits and openly rejecting him among their peers.

“You assholes really think that’s funny?”

Nines almost drops the coffee at the unexpected anger in Gavin’s voice. The tension is palpable even from where he stands outside and he can detect that Carson and Moore are as surprised as he is by the detective’s response.

“That ‘plastic prick’ saved my god damn ass while the rest of you were sitting around the break room drinking coffee,” Gavin continues, his tone icy. “So maybe show some god damn respect.”

It’s a good minute before either Carson or Moore respond. Of the two of them, Moore’s the one to speak up.

“What the fuck’s gotten into you, Reed? Since when do you give a shit about ‘em? The way I see it, your ‘partner’ shoulda stayed deactivated. The only good android’s a dead one.”

“You know what? I don’t have to listen to this shit,” Gavin snaps. “So why don’t you two assholes get the fuck outta here before I get my god damn ‘nanny’ to kick you out!”

“Whatever. It was nice seeing you, Reed,” Carson says, though his tone indicates the exact opposite.

The two officers storm out, glaring as they see Nines standing outside the room. Moore’s body language indicates he wants to initiate some sort of physical altercation but Carson’s dragging him away, muttering, “Anderson’ll have both our asses if you piss that one off.”

And just like that, Gavin severs his relationship with perhaps the only two people he works with that have earned the title, ‘friend’.

When Nines re-enters the room, the detective is quietly fuming. But, upon seeing Nines, his expression somewhat brightens, though there is evident hurt in his eyes. “Thought I told you to stop buying me the fancy shit.”

It takes a moment for Nines to respond as he is still processing what has just happened. He hands the coffee to Gavin and when their fingertips touch, as briefly as the contact is, his entire chassis feels hotter. “You know I am terrible at following orders, detective.”

“Yeah, we gotta work on that,” Gavin teases.

He becomes quiet, his eyes dropping to stare at the coffee he’s now holding in both hands. He normally drinks from it immediately, savors the taste of milk and espresso while it’s still piping hot. But he doesn’t even make an effort to try it.

“You, uh, didn’t hear any of that, did you?”

The question is asked barely above a whisper, the detective coloring in his embarrassment.

Seating himself in the chair he’s since pulled close to Gavin’s bed, Nines answers honestly. “I did.”

“They’re just assholes. Don’t even fucking know what they’re talking about.”

Gavin takes a small sip from his coffee while Nines watches, his pump working harder to push the thirium through his wires.

Gavin chose _him_. He chose _him_ over the few friends he has.

It’s rendered Nines speechless.

“I don’t need pricks like that. Fuck ‘em.”

And as he takes Nines’ hand, squeezes it, the android hopes he can someday be enough for Gavin.

* * *

A few days later, Gavin is released from the hospital. Little is said between the two on the drive back to the detective’s apartment, a comfortable silence falling between them. Moments of silence have always been riddled with tension in the past and Nines decides that for as much as he likes listening to Gavin’s voice, there is something quite..._intimate_ about being with someone and not feeling it necessary to fill the time with speech. When he glances over at Gavin sitting in the passenger’s seat, the detective gives him a small smile and Nines can’t help but store this away in his memory, capturing the moment for analysis later.

He loves Gavin. And he’s deduced, based on the detective’s behavior all week, that Connor’s right about those feelings being reciprocated.

But neither has said anything. There’s been no discussion on _them._ As of now, Nines can only assess their relationship is as follows:

**[Relationship: Gavin Reed – Partner]**

It’s ambiguous and safe. And ‘safe’ is what Nines needs right now.

“Sucks you gotta go into work tomorrow,” Gavin says, as Nines helps him up the stairs.

The detective can walk with little difficulty but the stairs provide him some trouble as he’s spent most of the week bedridden in the hospital. Nines wishes the detective lived in a newer building, one that at least has an elevator, but he has also come to learn that Gavin is far too stubborn to change his ways. He likes living in a part of Detroit that looks barely touched by the technological innovations of the 21st century, likes his old car without a functioning AI, likes his old clothes: ripped jeans and faded shirts, leather so worn, its started to peel away where the fabric’s creased too many times. Even the phone he carries is an outdated model from a few years back.

And that’s part of Gavin’s charm: his stubbornness to hold on a bit longer to the past as the rest of the world is propelled into the future.

“I will visit you before and after my shift tomorrow,” the android promises, helping Gavin up on the final step. Sweat has started to dot the detective’s hairline so Nines runs another scan, as he’s done multiple times in the last few minutes, if only to ensure that the detective isn’t overexerting himself. “You may also contact me at any point in the evening, should you require some assistance.”

They stop in front of his door as Nines pulls out the spare key he’d received from Gavin. The detective had informed him earlier that it was under the welcome mat in front of the door. Nines would normally reprimand the detective for his carelessness and list data on the prevalence of breaking and entering crimes within his area of the city but the android had been so overwhelmed by the gesture, by Gavin saying, “Just keep it. You know, in case you need it,” that the most he had been able to utter was, “Thank you,” before promising he’d return shortly with a change of clothes. In reality, his excursion had taken him a bit longer than he’d promised but he hopes that Gavin will understand.

“Just...you know, I kinda got used to having you around,” Gavin admits.

There’s a bit of color in his cheeks as he admits this and he attempts to hide his embarrassment by clearing his throat.

“I have also gotten quite acclimated to being within your presence,” Nines replies.

As he’s unlocking the door, Gavin’s chuckling. “That’s gotta be the most robot way of saying, ‘I like spending time with you, too, babe.’”

Nines tilts his head as the word slips and the detective’s face goes a deep shade of red. “If you would like, I can refer to you as that.”

“Wh-what?! N-No! I, uh, I just meant...forget it.”

Nines finds it rather amusing that the detective appears so flustered. Part of him wishes he could produce a genuine laugh but he also suspects Gavin would not appreciate the android gaining so much amusement at his expense.

Once they’re inside, Gavin drops onto the couch with a low groan. Nines sets the shoulder bag he’s carrying onto the coffee table and begins pulling out the few bottles of pills Gavin’s been prescribed, reminding the detective which to take and when. In response, the detective waves him off. “Yeah, yeah. I heard what the doc said. This one’s before bed, that one’s after meals.”

“Detective...”

Gavin smirks, folds his arms across his chest. It takes a moment for Nines to realize that the detective is acting so dismissive of his own health for the sake of frustrating the android.

“I will check in on you. If you miss taking your medication...”

The detective grabs Nines by the edge of his white coat, tugs it. The android takes a step closer to him, looming over the detective, who is forced to stare up at him from where he’s sitting. “Whatcha gonna do, Tin Can? Punish me?”

There’s a heat in Gavin’s eyes, his heart beating faster. His arousal is evident, yet there’s something far more soft and coy about the way he regards Nines, something the android isn’t quite used to. Nines isn’t certain how to react as their past intimacy had been based either on Gavin’s emotional manipulation of him or Nines rewarding Gavin with sex in exchange for Gavin being better behaved at work. There’s never been mutual affection between them and the android feels so out of his depth, it somewhat terrifies him.

Battling with his uncertainty, he leans down, tilts Gavin’s chin towards him. His lips ghosting against the detective’s, the android lets them linger achingly close, is pleased to detect Gavin’s impatience for him to close the distance. Instead, the android declares, “Punishing you would be against the doctor’s orders.”

And he then stands to his full height, looks down with amusement as Gavin grumbles, “You’re a god damn tease.”

A large _mmmreooow _makes the detective grunt out in surprise.

An orange tabby hops onto the coffee table, her eyes like giant emeralds as she meows once more. Part of her left ear is missing, along with half her tail, but when Nines had gone to the shelter earlier that morning, as much as he had wanted to leave with a cat that would have no physical deficiencies, he ended up with this one instead. He had learned that the cat was to be euthanized soon and something about its large, sad eyes as she curled up in the corner of her small cage had made the android take pity on her and adopt her.

Now that Gavin’s home, Nines watches, with trepidation he can feel down to his wires, as the detective stares in shock at the cat.

“I know she isn’t exactly as you had described your ideal cat would be—”

“The fuck you talking about?” Gavin interrupts. He reaches out, waits for the cat’s reaction. With a gentle purr, she rubs her face against his hand. “She’s fucking perfect.”

Every one of the detective’s rough edges melt away as he gently takes the cat into his arms. The touch-starved creature purrs and curls against his chest and the detective’s gaze is watery as he looks up at Nines. “What’s her name?”

“She was registered as ‘Bella’ by the previous owners. It appears they abandoned her and she spent some time on the streets, which is how she received her injuries.”

Gavin cusses under his breath. He looks down into the giant eyes of the cat and, with a small smile, says, “How ‘bout we give you a new name? Something your shitbag owners never called you.”

The cat merely purrs in response, her head sitting over the detective’s heart.

“Goose.”

Nines’ LED spins yellow. “That is an interesting name for a cat.”

Gavin chuckles. “Yeah, well, she looks like a ‘Goose’.”

The android is about to point out that the cat does not resemble a bird at all, not even with her coloring, but he keeps the remark to himself with a reminder that he should perform a search online later to see if there is some cultural reference he is missing. For now, he desires only to give his full attention to Gavin.

With a shy look, Gavin asks, “You gonna stay a while?”

“Of course.”

Sitting beside the detective on the couch, Nines’ internal temperature rises as Gavin presses against his side, Goose purring away in his lap.

* * *

The fall into a new routine, once Gavin returns to work. For Nines, most of the days are spent with the two visiting crime scenes, bickering over case theories in the bullpen, and Nines often having to push Gavin to complete paperwork. It’s on par with how things were before but now, there’s no vitriol whenever Gavin disagrees with Nines and half of the time, the android can tell the detective is ‘being difficult’ to get a reaction out of him. At break time, Gavin’s taken to walking to a nearby cafe for his caffeine fix and Nines has come to look forward to it as, once they are away from the curious glances of their coworkers, Gavin will take Nines’ hand in his and not let it go until after they’ve made the journey back. When the work day ends, it’s not unusual for the android to accompany his partner back home, to stay with Gavin throughout dinner and lavish Goose with attention. He never stays the night, always insisting that he should return to his apartment. It leaves Gavin disappointed and Nines knows he is disappointing the detective but his apprehension when it comes to intimacy is enough to convince the android that for now, he is doing the right thing.

So, eventually, Gavin stops asking.

Unfortunately, it means that the detective becomes far more hesitant at the limited physical contact he will initiate with Nines. Nines notices the shift immediately and feels helpless to bridge the slowly building tension between them. His fears of eventually returning to their same unhealthy patterns keeps him from progressing their relationship while his belief that Gavin will be reminded of his limitations and spurn him make the fear of rejection so visceral, Nines would much rather let the detective believe he’s not ready for more.

It all comes to a head one day when, during his lunch break, Gavin instead asks Connor to go with him for coffee. The android looks somewhat put off at the invitation and RK900 can tell from his predecessor’s expression that Connor’s about to reject the request but then Gavin leans in and says, quietly, “There’s something I gotta talk to you about.”

Nines is about to rise from his desk to accompany them but then Gavin’s saying, “I’ll see you in a bit,” and the android’s both pained and jealous that whatever it is that’s troubling the detective, he’s chosen to confide in Connor instead of him.

He spends the next 37 minutes in a state of silent anger, attempts to complete a report to keep himself distracted. But his preconstruction software torments him with all the possibilities of what could be transpiring between Connor and Gavin and by the time the two return, Nines becomes aware of how unproductive his lunch hour has been.

Connor is back at Hank’s side not 3.189 seconds after returning to the bullpen. Nines is tempted to open a private communication channel with RK800 and demand to know what it was Gavin wished to discuss with him but he recalls how upset Gavin had been the last time Nines invaded his privacy. So, instead, he allows himself to be tortured by not knowing.

After a minute, Gavin comes over, his gait as awkward as his expression. Nines has to terminate every prompt that appears in his HUD urging him to initiate a conversation that will lead to a discussion on what Gavin did at lunch. Instead, he focuses on how out of character the detective appears as Gavin crosses his arms, leans back against the android’s desk, and quickly darts his gaze around to make sure no one’s paying attention to them. A deep blush fills his cheeks as he struggles to keep the android’s intense gaze.

“H-hey, uh, I was thinking...” The detective has to pause to lick his dry lips. Nines watches raptly the way the tip of that pink tongue wets the chapped skin of Gavin’s lower lip. “You, uh...you wanna go on a date later?”

The android is too shocked to respond. He’s certain that his CPU is forced to buffer as he tries to process what Gavin is asking. It’s not, “Come with me to get a coffee” with the implications of potentially being considered a date. This is a DATE. Definitive.

His internal temperature rises and he requires the use of a fan to calm the increased activity of his thirium pump. He then detects Gavin becoming increasingly anxious the longer the android goes without responding.

“I very much want to,” Nines finally answers.

“Oh, uh...good.”

And Gavin returns to his desk, pretends to look over a report he needs to submit in the afternoon. But Nines catches the small grin on Gavin’s face and the detective fails to hide it throughout the rest of the shift.

* * *

[313 248 317-87]

_I am uncertain of the etiquette for a ‘date’. Would it be considered inappropriate to appear in something Gavin has seen me wear at work?_

The android glances between the only two shirts he keeps at the station: one, a DPD t-shirt gifted to him by Connor not long after RK900 joined and, the other, a black turtleneck. Neither seem very ‘date-like’, if the advice of online forums is anything to go by. Those forums have left him with more questions than answers.

So, he went to the only android he knows who has experience in this field.

[313 248 317-51]

_Detective Reed will not be concerned with your appearance. He will, however, be worried if you fail to meet him._

Placing the DPD shirt back in his locker, Nines begins changing into the black turtleneck.

[313 248 317-87]

_I informed him that I would meet him outside in a ‘few minutes’. The ambiguity of the time frame should mean that my presence is not yet expected. _

[313 248 317-51]

_You are aware this is Gavin Reed who, as you have experienced firsthand, is not known for his patience._

Shutting his locker, Nines strides to the mirror and checks his appearance. Strands of hair have fallen loose from where they were once gelled back, curling over his left eye. He is about to tame them back but then he remembers that something similar had happened a week ago and how Gavin had gently touched the curls, his smile warm and skin flush. The detective had muttered, “Fucking gorgeous,” and Nines now regrets not having let the detective kiss him. His panic had made him pull away and declare that he needed to return home to ‘recharge’. He didn’t want Gavin to be reminded of how terrible he is at kissing.

[313 248 317-87]

_I am meeting with him right now. Should I require further assistance, I will contact you._

As Nines walks towards the exit, a final piece of advice is sent by Connor.

[313 248 317-51]

_Remember to COMMUNICATE. You would be surprised of how much can be solved when you simply TELL someone how you feel._

Nines wants to inquire what exactly RK800 seems to be implying but then his predecessor ends the communication between them. He suspects it might have something to do with what Connor and Gavin had discussed over lunch.

He finds Gavin outside, the detective finishing off a cigarette. As filthy as the habit is, Nines finds there is something about seeing a cigarette in the detective’s hand that seems very fitting. So he doesn’t comment on how Gavin should cut back, instead, silently admires how attractive Gavin looks in his old leather jacket and faded jeans.

“So, uh, we gonna do this?”

The detective fidgets nervously, as if he expects Nines to change his mind.

“Of course.”

Gavin smiles in relief. “Great. I, uh, looked up this place. It’s got stuff you can have. You know, with thirium. We should, um...check it out.”

The drive there is quiet, riddled with a nervous tension that Gavin eventually tries to drown out with the sound of the radio. Though the thought of having thirium-based food has never appealed to Nines, he is pleasantly surprised by the menu and chooses one of the beverages meant to mimic a virgin-daiquiri. The blue slush he is served looks more interesting than it must taste and he still cannot quite get over the impracticality of creating such a thing. Luckily, as he is unable to visibly express displeasure, his immediate reaction is one that cannot disappoint Gavin.

Glancing across the table at the detective, who is looking expectantly at him, Nines realizes Gavin is waiting for him to try it.

It’s then that he becomes aware that this is Gavin making an _effort._ Gavin wants to impress him so the detective had been thoughtful enough to choose a restaurant where they can both eat.

Touched at the revelation, the android tries the blue slush. To his surprise, he finds it perfectly adequate.

“So? How’s the thirium daiquiri?”

“It’s better than I expected,” Nines admits.

Drinking a more pure form of thirium from a packet is certainly more efficient but seeing the pleased grin on Gavin’s face convinces Nines that, for tonight, a thirium daiquiri will certainly suffice.

The detective’s food arrives not long after that: a burger with fries. Conversation between them comes easily once Gavin’s had some food in him. He mostly talks about Goose, gripes a bit on the workload Fowler’s dumped on them, and then mentions something he’d seen on tv the other night, after Nines had left. Nines listens but doesn’t attempt to change the course of the discussion, despite that there is something looming over them that neither have yet to address. Of the two, it’s surprisingly Gavin who, after finishing off a fry, says, “So, Connor and I talked about some shit at lunch today.”

Not wanting to appear invasive or pushy, Nines simply answers, “RK800 is more capable than myself at providing solutions to problems that require a less impersonal touch.”

Gavin scrunches his brows and, after a moment, shrugs. “Uh...yeah. Con’s alright. We got fuck all to talk about but he, uh, helped me figure some shit out.”

Nines tries not to let the flare of jealousy at the nickname dictate his behavior for the rest of the date. It hurts enough that Gavin hadn’t come to him first but he feels even worse that Gavin feels comfortable enough with Connor to refer to him by a nickname that is in no way derogatory. Enviously, he thinks of how long it’s taken him, and the exorbitant effort he had made, for Gavin to treat Nines with that same respect.

“If I am not overstepping, you may confide in me should you require another opinion on the matter,” Nines says, his tone more stilted than usual as he carefully chooses his words.

Gavin plays with a fry on his plate, not meeting Nines’ eyes as he admits, “He, uh, told me I shouldn’t go to him if I got a problem with you but...you know, talk to you face-to-face ‘bout it. Pretty sure his exact words were, ‘Detective Reed, if you took two seconds to pull your idiotic head out of your own ass, you would stop being a stupid asshole and talk to the guy you’re having issues with’.”

Nines feels his pump stutter as he listens, a numbness seeping into his wires. Not even the poor impression of Connor, who may have been critical but would never address the detective in that manner, can diminish the way he’s receiving what Gavin has admitted.

Gavin is unsatisfied with him. And of course he would be. Nines is hardly an adequate partner, he is terrible at intimacy, and now he can’t help but deduce that Connor provided Gavin advice on how to ‘gently’ break off whatever has been going on between them. This ‘date’ must have been a ruse to get them away from the precinct, where Nines will at least not be subjected to Connor’s sympathy or his superior’s quiet scrutiny for bringing personal matters to work.

He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this terrible. In some ways, he wonders if Gavin constantly verbally abusing him and emotionally manipulating him for sex is preferable to knowing he isn’t good enough.

“I understand that my limitations make me a poor choice as a romantic partner,” Nines answers, his monotone making him despise that even in his sadness, he will always sound like an unfeeling machine, “and that there are more ideal options should you desire to seek them elsewhere—”

“No, not—!” Gavin groans loudly, runs a hand nervously through his hair. “Shit, I’m fucking this up. I—look, I’m not saying the problem’s ‘you’ because it’s not. It’s me and—fuck, that also sounds like a shitty break up line...”

“So you are breaking up with me.”

“What?! No! I’m….god dammit.”

An AX400 sitting at a nearby table glances over at them, a look of concern on her face. She must be able to detect Nines’ stress, if what she’s overheard and his red LED have not given it away. Surrounded by groups of friends and couples that have a good mixture of humans and androids, Nines is starting to regret Gavin’s choice of locale.

Unable to respond, he stares down at the pastel surface of the table, the remainder of the blue slush he had been consuming now completely liquefied.

“Nines, babe, would you just look at me.”

_Babe._

He lifts his gaze, sees the hand stretched in the space between them. He places his own in Gavin’s, the detective’s touch making the sensors in his hand flare with a pleasant sensation. When he meets Gavin’s eyes, Nines is surprised by the sadness there.

“I’m shitty at this….communication thing,” Gavin starts. He rubs his thumb against the inside of Nines’ hand in a motion that Nines finds both calming and quite nice. “You’ve probably figured out I’m shitty at a lot of things. Every asshole who’s ever fucked me treated me like shit—fucking used me to get as much as they could outta me—and I did the same fucking thing to you. That’s not an excuse, by the way. I’ve got no fucking excuses for what I did. But I’m such a moron that it took fucking Connor to point out I’m a dumbass if I expect you to forget that shit and jump into this with me.”

The detective falls quiet, stares at where their hands are joined. With a shake of his head, he continues, “And now you’re giving me this shit about you being a ‘bad choice’ for me—”

“A poor choice,” Nines corrects, “as I am incapable of engaging in intimacy in a way that humans would find desirable. I...will never be good enough to please a human partner.”

As he admits this, he attempts to release Gavin’s hand. However, the detective doesn’t let him, instead, interlacing their fingers and squeezing tightly. There’s a tremor is Gavin’s voice as he whispers, quite fiercely, “Fucking right you’re not ‘good enough’. You’re god damn better, the best god damn thing that’s ever happened to me. And if you think I’m gonna sit here and let you talk smack about the asshole I’m in love with, you’re gonna have to finish that blue slush yourself, Tin Can.”

There’s a slight widening of Nines’ eyes as he stares across the table at the detective in shock. Gavin’s eyes are piercing as they meet his, swimming with so much emotion, Nines is pulled into their raging seas.

“I love you, Nines,” Gavin says, states with a confidence that leaves Nines’ pump regulator pulsing in his chassis, “and I’m gonna show you I mean it, gonna spend every god damn day proving it to you if I have to.”

Gavin slides into Nines’ side of the booth, his body radiating with a nervous energy, as if anticipating the android to pull back. But for once, Nines isn’t indulging those anxious prompts, lets Gavin slide one of his hands behind the android’s neck, resting it where his hairline meets the edge of the turtleneck. The other cups his jaw, rough, calloused fingertips gently tilting the android’s face down.

“Gavin...”

The second syllable breaks with static, the android too speechless to utter anything but the detective’s name. Taking it as an invitation, Gavin leans up, presses his lips tenderly against Nines’. It’s soft and chaste but it makes Nines’ components thrum with a burst of energy, has him grasping at the detective’s arm as he’s overwhelmed by the sensations that race through his wires.

Sitting back, Gavin gives the android a small smile, his fingers reaching up to play with the curl that’s fallen over the android’s left eye.

“I’m a terrible kisser,” Nines admits.

But Gavin merely chuckles. “Then that just means we gotta keep practicing.”

And so, they do.

* * *

When the door clicks shut behind him, Nines hardly has enough time to complete a scan of his immediate surroundings before Gavin’s tugging him forward, the android obediently allowing himself to be guided. A wanton mouth presses against his own, catching only the corner as Gavin attempts to accommodate their height difference by standing on his toes. Nines makes it easier for him by tilting his head, passive as he waits for Gavin’s mouth to guide him. That memory of their first night together is quickly analyzed to recall the specific pressure Gavin had liked and though Nines has some brief experience in this, he lacks a natural flow and rhythm to initiate the kiss.

So he lets Gavin start, his lips parting immediately when the edge of the detective’s tongue presses between them. Fingers lace their way in his hair, angling Nines’ face in a way that makes it easier for the detective to lead, the slide of his tongue against the android’s enough to slowly undo him. He mimics as best as he can, is rewarded with a throaty groan that’s buried at the back of the detective’s throat. All the while, his tongue catalogs the data he’s receiving from Gavin—traces of his last meal, nicotine, his own DNA—everything that makes Gavin Reed the only man Nines is convinced he will ever love.

As their kissing becomes more intense—Nines an ever eager student—the fans in his chassis spur to life to keep him from overheating, Gavin reluctantly breaking it to pant gently, dropping his head to Nines’ firm chest as he catches his breath. One arm slides around the android’s waist, holding him close to the detective, while fingers toy with the hairs on the back of his neck. His HUD informs him of Gavin’s increased heart rate but the erection Gavin’s attempting to hide by keeping his hips away from Nines’ thighs had given away the detective’s arousal minutes before.

“F-fuck, you’re so hot,” Gavin gasps against Nines’ shoulder.

Not quite sure what to do with his arms, the android curls them around the detective, feels him relax against his chest. “It may take a moment for my cooling fans to decrease my internal temperature.”

Gavin laughs and it’s a wonderful sound Nines is determined to hear more of. “Not what I meant.”

“That was a joke, detective.”

It makes Gavin laugh even harder, now needing to cling to Nines to keep from falling over. As his laughter begins to die down, the android says, “I also think you are incredibly attractive, Gavin.”

The android glances down and though Gavin’s face is hidden, the tips of his ears have gone red. Feeling more confident at this ‘intimacy’ he is learning, Nines rubs soothing circles on Gavin’s back. From the way Gavin seems to ease further into his embrace, the android suspects the detective likes this.

“Mreow.”

Goose weaves through their legs and as reluctant as Nines is to release Gavin, he lets his arms drop away so the detective can pick up his purring cat. The tenderness Gavin had shown only moments before is further softened by his gentle cooing as he holds her in his arms.

“Hey, Goosey-Goose. You miss daddy?”

She rubs her face against his hand, seeming to smile as he begins to scratch beneath her chin. The whole interaction is quite endearing and Nines can’t feel disappointed at the interruption as anything that makes Gavin smile like this is worth experiencing.

“Sorry to, uh, put this on pause,” Gavin mumbles, looking incredibly bashful, “Gotta feed my furbitch before she gets hangry.”

“I suspect there will be further interruptions until her needs are met.”

Gavin chuckles. “Fucking right. Just give me a minute.”

He takes her into the kitchen, placing Goose on the floor near her food and water dishes. Lingering in the doorway, Nines watches silently as Gavin pretends to complain about how much of a ‘diva’ his cat is and how she won’t let her daddy have any fun on his date. Goose purrs loudly, rubs herself against Gavin’s legs the entire time he’s opening her can of food. The detective bends down to empty the can into her dish.

“Hope you’re god damn pleased with yourself,” he admonishes her but the moment he steps back, Goose loses all interest in him as she goes for her food.

Dropping the empty can into the recycling bin, Gavin saunters back to Nines, raises a brow and asks, “Remind me, babe: where were we?”

The nickname _‘babe’_ is making Nines’ pump regulator respond in ways that are almost concerning. He decides he very much likes the term of endearment.

“I believe you were teaching me how to kiss.”

The slow smirk that tugs at the corner of Gavin’s lips is what Nines is certain is meant by the term ‘devilish’. “Guess we better keep practicing.”

To Nines’ surprise, Gavin doesn’t lean up to claim his lips as he had in the living room, instead, lifts Nines’ hand to press his mouth to each knuckle. Watching as those kiss-swollen lips move across his synthetic flesh has his chassis heating up once more and Nines has to reduce the intensity of the sensory feedback he is receiving in fear that he will actually overheat. When Gavin turns Nines’ hand to press a kiss to the inside of his wrist, his gray eyes flick up to meet the android’s gaze and the smoldering heat in them sends a thrill racing through the android’s wires.

“Want me to keep going?”

The android’s LED cycles yellow. “Yes.”

A hand presses to the android’s lower back, fingers sliding beneath the material of his turtleneck. They brush against his skin, tracing lines beneath his shirt and the skin-to-skin sensation is one Nines wants more of. He doesn’t have to wait long as Gavin leans up to kiss the line of the android’s jaw, works his way until his mouth finds Nines’ and he’s kissing him with a hunger that has the android’s cock slowly beginning to fill. It’s the first time since the night Nines impersonated Connor that his component has responded without executing a forced command.

“Can I take this off?” Gavin asks against his lips.

The detective tugs at the hem of Nines’ shirt, eager but only willing to go forward once he has the android’s consent. It’s far different from the times he’d gotten drunk or demanded sex: he’s doing this on Nines’ terms and only taking it as far as Nines wants to go.

And at the moment, Nines wants more of Gavin’s hands and lips on his skin.

“Yes.”

He helps Gavin pull his shirt off, sets it on the nearby counter top. As he looks back at the detective, Gavin’s eyes are drinking in the sight of the android’s exposed chest, almost as if the detective’s seeing it for the first time and is most pleased. Finding it somewhat unfair that Nines is the only one half naked, he grasps at the lapels of Gavin’s coat and begins to remove it, the detective responding a bit belatedly before cooperating. With both the detective’s jacket and shirt added to the pile Nines started, the android has only a moment to appreciate the familiar scars littered across the detective’s skin before Gavin’s kissing him once more, pressing the entirety of his frame against his partner.

A moan interrupts the kiss as their clothed erections brush against each other and Nines is almost startled by how much more intense the receptors are on his upgrade, had forgotten that _this_ is how it feels. Having shut them off whenever he was ‘rewarding’ Gavin, the few ‘orgasms’ he had were merely forced through the software connected to the device, simulated in the way a Traci would when servicing their clientele. But now that this is something both of them want, Nines is savoring every sensation, from the hands sliding against his skin to the mouth that moves against his own.

With some uncertainty, he places his hands on Gavin’s hips. Taking it as encouragement, the detective rolls his hips to grind against the android and the friction makes Nines feels as if he’s short-circuiting, an odd, mechanical echo erupting in his throat. The sound startles Gavin, who breaks off the kiss. But when he realizes what’s happening, a devious smirk spreads on his lips.

“You like that?” he teases.

He rolls his hips once more, a gentle ‘fuck’ spilling off his tongue. Nines tries to hold back but it’s as if he’s lost all control of his voice modulator as Gavin elicits another one of those inhuman echoes. But instead of scaring off the detective, it emboldens him and he becomes even more experimental as his hand slides up the android’s chest and he swipes his thumb across one of Nines’ light pink nipples. It feels...nice, in the same way that being touched on his chest is ‘nice’, but Nines is somewhat indifferent to it.

“Doesn’t really do anything for ya, huh?”

Gavin flicks his thumb across it again.

Not wanting to discourage the detective, Nines answers, “I enjoy being with you like this, Gavin.”

“Wasn’t what I was asking, babe.”

He leans up and kisses the android chastely, letting his lips linger against Nines’. Nines loves the tenderness at which Gavin kisses him, how every touch is prolonged to savor the barest of contact, as if the detective can’t get enough of him. His irises have thinned to barely visible rings, pupils blown with want, as he gazes up at Nines and whispers, “Wanna make you feel good.”

He presses his hand to the center of Nines’ chest, where his thirium pump rests. It thrums rapidly against Gavin’s palm and, much to Nines’ humiliation, his skin begins to retract. Without the synthetic layer, there is nothing between Gavin’s hand and the android’s ‘heart’ and even though he’s reduced his sensory feedback, the sensation of some part of the detective touching him this intimately makes the android’s voice crackle.

“G-Gavin...”

Gavin traces the circle that’s appeared with his finger and the explosion of feedback has the android’s HUD filling with warnings. Static erupts from his throat, lashes fluttering as he relishes the way Gavin touches and teases the sensitive component. The android’s aware of ‘wire-play’ and other fetish games that involve the brief removal of the pump regulator and while this is something he may be more open to exploring in the future, for now, he is content with Gavin’s curious exploration.

Letting his hand dip lower, patches of skin retreat wherever he touches Nines, even along the android’s neck when Gavin leaves a trail of wet kisses. His fingers toy with the edge of Nines’ pants and Nines can feel the grin hidden in the crook of his neck, unconsciously attempts to press up against the detective’s hand.

“Getting impatient there, Tin Can.”

He makes one of those robotic noises in his frustration, his fingers digging into Gavin’s waist. The pressure is harder than he intends but Gavin doesn’t mind, gives a throaty laugh that’s muted by the android’s flesh. He easily flicks open the button and unzips the android’s pants, cups Nines through his Cyberlife issued underwear. Lifting his head, the detective fixes his heated gaze on his partner, his thumb tracing the bulge resting in his palm.

“Tell me what you want,” Gavin whispers hoarsely. “I wanna hear you say it.”

“G-Gavin...I-I...”

Nines takes a moment to process, his voice modulator producing incoherent sounds. He shuts his mouth to try and keep them from escaping, half-concerned Gavin will be repulsed by how inhumanly he expresses arousal. Data he’s wanted to erase replays in his processor—of that Traci sliding his body against the detective’s, moaning in a way Nines never will—and the shame of never being able to respond like him has the android desperately wishing those sound will stop echoing in his throat.

But Gavin doesn’t seem to mind, does not stop rubbing Nines, says with barely contained need, “Relax, babe. Let me take care of you.”

And it’s enough to break Nines’ reservation, has him stuttering, “I-I want you to touch me.”

Gavin licks a line from Nines’ neck up to the edge of his ear, his tongue passing over the off-white layer as the synthetic flesh retreats briefly before it reforms. With a warm chuckle, he frees Nines’ cock, grasps it in his firm and confident grip. And as his hand slides up, Nines can no longer hold back as more sounds rip from his voice box, some hitting decibels Gavin’s ears are incapable of registering.

“That’s it, baby,” Gavin moans huskily, thumb rubbing over the head of Nines’ dick, “let it all fucking out.”

He collects dribbles of the viscous ‘pre-cum’ that gathers at the tip, uses it to slick his palm. But it doesn’t matter as Nines can register physical pleasure but not pain, would not even be discomforted by the extra friction. Either way, the feeling of Gavin slowly jacking him off has Nines clinging to the detective, indulging every moment of it. He lets his face fall to Gavin’s shoulder, the detective’s name crackling each time it spills against his skin.

“You sound so fucking hot, babe. F-fuck, you don’t know how badly I want you.”

Nines warms at the praise, is so overwhelmed with how much he wants Gavin, that he’s responding almost quicker than he’s processing the request he’s making, “Th-then you should fuck me already.”

The detective’s hand stills and, for a second, Nines worries he’s gone too far. But then he sees the detective’s eyes staring into his with such need, there’s no doubt in his mind that Gavin wants it, too. “You serious, babe? Thought you said you would ‘derive no pleasure’ from that?”

If Nines could, he would be coloring with embarrassment at the flippant remark he had made. He hadn’t been lying at the time since his refusal to activate the sensors in his upgrades had meant he wouldn’t have received pleasure from anal intercourse.

But now, with his all his wires seeming to hum every time Gavin’s hands touch his flesh, Nines feels a need for the detective that will only be satisfied once Gavin’s buried within him.

“I would not put much thought in the comments I made during that time,” Nines says. He almost feels shy admitting this, says, with want that makes the words echo as they spill from his lips, “I very much want you inside of me, Gavin.”

Gavin swallows, thickly, darts his tongue over his bottom lip. Flicking his gaze up to meet Nines’ eyes, he then cradles the android’s jaw, leans up on the tips of his toes to whisper hotly against his throat, “Careful, Tin Can. You keep saying hot shit like that and I’m gonna bend you over the counter and take you from behind.”

Nines preconstructs it in his mind palace, runs through multiple variations on the position. “I would not be opposed to that.”

But Gavin has other things in mind, kisses the android softly, and then takes him by the hand. With a gentle smile on his lips, he tugs and leads Nines out of the kitchen. “Yeah, well, this is your first time so we’re gonna do this right_. _But I’m gonna remember you said that for next time.”

The promise of there being a ‘next time’ makes the android’s pump pulse loudly in his chassis.

Once in Gavin’s room, both of them waste no time in removing the rest of their clothing. Nines tries to keep things neat and organized but Gavin ends up kicking off his pants and underwear in his impatience and they somehow end up at the other side of the room. Nines has little time to reflect on it as Gavin’s soon pushing him back onto the bed, sliding languidly on top of him. The feel of the entirety of the detective pressed against him forces the android to once more lower his touch receptors. He refers to his intimacy software to put them at optimal settings since he’s in danger of overheating from how much feedback he’s receiving.

Gavin kisses him, wet and without abandon, and when Nines begins to respond, shifting his hips to brush their erections together, the detective moans loudly. The android’s quickly learning how Gavin likes to be kissed, how he likes to be touched, lets his hands roam up the detective’s backside to retrace familiar paths. As Gavin rests his forehead against Nines’, his shuddering breaths tickling the android’s cheek, Nines feels a finger press against his entrance.

“I don’t require preparation,” he informs Gavin, his voice breaking off in static as the tip of the detective’s finger dips in. The strength of the receptors around his hole catches him off guard as he hadn’t thought they would be this intense. Gavin, however, must be enjoying the state he’s put Nines in, is nuzzling his cheek, presses in a little deeper as he’s rewarded with more sounds from the android.

“Don’t want me to play with you a bit?”

But Nines is already at the end of his patience, is near ready to explode from how much Gavin’s worked him up with this ‘lesson’ in intimacy.

“G-Gavin, _please._”

The plea seems to snap Gavin of his playfulness, his grip firm as he shifts Nines’ hips to line himself against the android’s entrance. Just the feel of that hard cock resting against his hole leaves the android’s voice modulator crackling.

“Fuck, I love it when you beg,” Gavin utters, kissing Nines.

The wet slide of the detective’s tongue caressing his own is a deceptive distraction, the android’s LED burning at his temple. The bemusement on Gavin’s face once he pulls back makes Nines’ LED blink red in short spurts. Though primarily a response to his arousal, the android plays up his ‘irritation’.

“I’m not begging.”

Gavin laughs softly. “Sure, babe. Keep telling yourself that.”

Nines tries to glare at him but, as he can hardly move his brows, settles for pinching the detective’s side.

“Ow! Okay, shit, I’m going.”

The chuckle that tumbles from his parted lips breaks into a throaty shudder as Gavin slowly begins to push inside. He’s only partway in, pauses to gauge the android’s response but Nines is unable to form words with coherency, is so preoccupied with what he’s experiencing, he can barely focus on Gavin’s face hovering near his. While Nines’ HUD is filling with updates on Gavin’s vitals, the sensations that pulse from the wires connected to his upgrade wash through his chassis in wave after wave of overwhelming feedback and he’s not certain any words within any known language would be apt enough to describe how Gavin feels inside of him. He’s been inside Gavin, buried deep that first time Gavin rode him on the detective’s couch and as wonderful as that had been, what is happening to Nines at this moment is amazing in a way that’s quite similar but also entirely _different._

“H-hey, Nines, baby, you okay?”

Nines blinks up at Gavin, at those lust-blown eyes that are now gazing at him with concern. His body can adjust, can accommodate Gavin by retracting or expanding depending on the detective’s size and right now, Nines remains tight enough that both of them should find it extremely pleasurable. He wishes to inform Gavin of this, assure the detective that it is okay to continue, but the only sounds his voice box forms when his lips part is that odd, echoing static.

So Gavin kisses the android’s blinking LED and whispers, “Can I keep going, babe?”

Nines nods, dismisses the streams of data popping up in his HUD so he can better focus on the detective. Encouraged, Gavin presses all the way in, a low groan tearing from his lips. The look of complete satisfaction on his face when he’s finally fully sheathed leaves Nines’ components heating, a pleasant twisting sensation in his wires, with the knowledge that he is the one making Gavin feel this way.

With more care than is required, Gavin pulls out and then thrusts back in, another moan spilling from his parted lips. Nines shifts slightly to optimize the angle, hugs the detective close as Gavin builds a steady rhythm. The gentle slap of Gavin’s balls hitting his ass, the lips that taste and tease the synthetic flesh on his neck, sweat that begins to build and slick the detective’s skin...all of it, Nines is somehow processing as he submits to the feeling of Gavin rocking inside of him. Each time the detective drives his cock as deep as it will go, Nines feels a pressure building inside of him and he’s so desperate to reach that peak, to fall over the edge with Gavin, grasping and clinging to the detective as he drives both of them closer.

“F-fuck, babe,” Gavin gasps against his lips, kisses him sloppily, leaves Nines’ chin wet with both their saliva. He drops his head to Nines’ shoulder, slams hard into the android and Nines makes this broken, crackling noise, wants more of it, wants Gavin to fuck him so hard, his processor threatens to go offline. He attempts to say the detective’s name—to say _something—_and what Nines ends up uttering is what may be the first syllable of Gavin’s name, echoing with so much static, he can’t be certain Gavin caught it. But then the detective is groaning, gripping Nines’ left leg and forcing it towards the android’s torso and the angle is so deep that from the moment Gavin’s dick pounds into him, Nines swears he’s seeing zeroes and ones.

Neither of them can last long after that, Nines’ internal fans working at full capacity to keep his chassis cool, his fingers bruising as the dig into the detective’s back. Gavin’s hips roll and smack against him as he increases his pace, each time, slamming into him and striking the part of Nines’ component where most of the sensitivity is concentrated. The pressure suddenly escalates and Nines can’t hold on any longer, warning after warning flooding his HUD, his LED flaring bright red, and his thirium pump pulsating so hard, Nines almost illogically believes its about to explode inside his chassis. A burst of synthetic fluid splashes across his abdomen and then he’s so overwhelmed by sensory data, everything goes black.

A few seconds later, his eyes blink open and he witnesses Gavin’s face contorted in pleasure, a loud groan ripping from the back of the detective’s throat as something warm spills inside of the android. Nines flags the visual as something to be reviewed later, wants to remember Gavin like this, and holds the detective close as he collapses on top of the android.

Nines’ chest is hot—far hotter than it should be—and his system is running a multitude of scans to ensure all of his components are functioning. It should panic him how something as innocuous as sexual intimacy can cause forced restarts or damage parts vital to keeping him online but as Gavin gasps for breath, his sweating forehead pressed to the crook of the android’s neck, Nines decides that being like this with him will always be worth it.

It’s some time before either move and Nines can’t even be certain if it’s mutual exhaustion or the desire to maintain post-coital contact but he is in no mood to shift away. He will have no choice but to shower before going to work in the morning, an activity he only ever engages in when afflicted by elements such as the weather or getting injured on the job but for now, he decides he doesn’t mind having Gavin’s cum inside of him.

With some reluctance, Gavin lifts his head. There’s a small smirk on his lips as he taps at the android’s chest.

“You’re burning up like a furnace, Tin Can.”

The android blinks and then flicks his eyes across the detective. Gavin’s face is flush from the exertion of their lovemaking, skin pink and hair mussed. It’s rather adorable.

“My internal temperature should lower after a few minutes. I am, otherwise, functional.”

“Almost thought I broke you back there,” Gavin says, with a small chuckle.

He kisses Nines softly and Nines likes how he can feel the detective’s warm smile against his lips. After a moment, Gavin whispers, “C’mon, babe. Let’s get cleaned up.”

‘Cleaned up’ ends up being another forty five minutes entangled in each other in Gavin’s shower. What begins as slow, lazy kisses evolves to heated petting and before long, Gavin’s pressing the android to the wall of the shower and beating them both off. The detective’s energy and enthusiasm comes as something of a surprise to Nines but by the end of it, it’s clear that both of his orgasms have finally caught up to him and Gavin’s ready to collapse in his bed and sleep until his alarm forces him up for work.

They’ve hardly dried off when Gavin’s pulling back the sheets and glancing expectantly at Nines.

“You coming, babe?”

There’s some nervousness in his voice, perhaps due to all the times Nines has rejected stayed over. He never has because Nines has been afraid of getting close, of getting hurt once more. And maybe that fear will always be there, as present now as it’s ever been, but the one thing Nines can be certain of is that Gavin is worth that risk.

So he climbs in, lies flat on his back, uncertain of what it is he should be doing. Nines doesn’t have a bed in his apartment, has never entered stasis lying down. A quick search in an online database presents results of multiple sleeping positions but Nines can’t even be sure if the one he’s chosen is one that is ideal for this evening’s sleeping arrangement.

Gavin rolls onto his side so he’s facing Nines. With Gavin’s body heat pressing into his side, a soft smile smoothing the normally rough lines of his face, the android is so overcome with affection that he can’t help but say those words that have eluded him all night.

“I love you, Gavin.”

Gavin’s eyes fill with warmth, crinkling at the edges as the smile on his face grows. Another moment Nines will need to review later as Gavin is most beautiful when he is smiling like this.

“I love you, too, Nines,” he answers as he cradles the android’s cheek, “so god damn much.”

He kisses him tenderly, his confession making the android’s pump whir with an intensity no different than a pounding heart. Then, he rests his head on Nines’ left shoulder, his hand over the pump thrumming in Nines’ chassis. The blanket sits around their waists so Nines pulls it up to cover Gavin’s shoulder, wraps his other arm around the detective to keep him close at his side. As they are entering the cooler months, Nines doesn’t want his partner to get cold at some point in the night.

Tiny paws patter against the floor, a soft mewl heard before the cat hops up onto the bed. With a tired yawn, Gavin then mumbles sleepily, “Goose likes to sleep on faces.”

The detective falls asleep shortly after that and, sure enough, by the time Nines exits stasis in the morning, there is a cat curled around his head, purring softly against his blinking LED.

But Nines decides he can get used to this.

* * *

The next month passes in much the same way as that first night: frequent dates after work, Nines returning to Gavin’s apartment, and the two awakening the next morning in each other’s arms, someone with a face full of cat. Eventually, Gavin convinces Nines to let the detective stay at his place for a change of scenery and Nines has to admit that he doesn’t even have a bed, which then leads to a Sunday afternoon spent scrutinizing furniture and Connor and Gavin bickering over which bed would look better in Nines’ apartment. The two have learned to tolerate each other, for the sake of Nines, but that hardly changes how they argue far more than Nines and Gavin ever do.

Eventually, Nines sides with Gavin because, in spite of Connor’s compelling argument that the bed he likes would match the few other pieces of furniture the android already owns, Gavin’s declaration of, “Yeah, well I say this bed’s better because I’m the one fucking him and I wanna get dicked in this one,” is logic Nines cannot argue with, not even when Connor shakes his head in disgust and storms off in search of company he’s not “embarrassed to be seen in public with.” The transaction complete and an evening spent assembling the bed, Gavin soon makes good on his crude declaration.

It’s mid-afternoon and Nines finds he’s sitting at his computer and finishing up a report from a crime scene he investigated earlier in their shift. Gavin said he had to run an errand at lunch and has yet to return, though his break ended a few minutes before. While Nines wants to inquire where Gavin is, he has also learned to be less intrusive, to respect some boundaries and trust that if something arises, the detective will inform him when he is most comfortable.

Trust is something that both of them have been learning.

He detects Gavin as his partner enters the bullpen. While passing by, the detective places a photo frame on the edge of Nines’ desk before plopping down in his seat, his desk facing the android’s. Nines finally glances away from the computer, his LED spinning yellow as he sees the photo.

“What’s this?”

The detective’s face goes red and he nervously scratches at his nose. “Thought you might, uh, want something to, you know, personalize your desk or whatever.”

Nines carefully picks up the frame, stares at the image: it’s a selfie Gavin took recently of the two of them on the detective’s couch, Goose curled up in the android’s lap. Their relationship is something neither has openly talked about at work, though it seems clear enough to everyone else what is going on between them.

For Gavin to give him this, well...this will boldly confirm to their few remaining skeptical coworkers exactly what they are to each other.

Nines stares across their desks at his partner, a flurry of emotions overwhelming him as he grips the photo.

“You can toss it if you don’t like it,” Gavin says, though Nines can see in the detective’s body language how nervous he is, how he shakes his leg half in anticipation of rejection.

Placing it back down, Nines says, “It’s perfect. Thank you, Gavin.”

And Gavin smiles at him. That small, discreet one he uses when he’s too shy to show how happy he really feels.

A smile Nines has only ever seen directed his way.

With his pump humming, Nines decides it’s about time to update something he’s been putting off. The fear of being discarded or mistreated has been replaced with a new kind of fear, one Nines never expected: the fear of a life without Gavin Reed when his recklessness or mortality finally catch up with him. Even the knowledge that Goose may have a significantly shorter lifespan has taught Nines the value of indulging every moment he spends with the detective and his furry companion, has made him more confident that though he may have his disagreements with Gavin, the detective is not going anywhere in the foreseeable future.

**[Relationship: Gavin Reed – Partner]**

Nines would frown if he could. The ambiguity of the term had been preferable at the time but now he knows that they are so much more than that, that there is something definitive between them.

So, he uses the one word he thinks most aptly describes them, even if he feels a single word will never fully capture what Gavin is to him.

**[Relationship: Gavin Reed – Lover]**

Satisfied, Nines returns to his report. And by that evening, Gavin proves, as he has every day, just how apt that descriptor is.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure if anyone caught it but the "Show Me Going" is a reference to B99.


End file.
